The first two days drove me nuts.
Everybody moved too slowly.
That got to win the race attitude I acquired in Hollywood was missing.
The people, the life there, were too sluggish for me.
It felt like they had no destination, no purpose in life, no desire.
It bugged me tremendously.
It was about the third day at a cross road when a local waited for me, smiled and signal me to go ahead – although clearly he had the right of way.
I screeched my tires and made the left turn to a pineapple plantation road.
It was a glorious evening and the smell of ripe pineapple was intoxicating.
It hit me like a ton of bricks: “YOU, are on an island! Where the hell do you think you are going?”
When you are on an island no matter how fast you go the best that you can achieve it is to arrive back at the point of departure.
There is no destination - you are there.
The road ended and in front of me the magnificent blue ocean opened its infinite canopy.
The sun was setting and it was painting the sky in amazing Technicolor hues of gold, purple and red.
I stood there in awe and I realized:
Life is an island –you are already there.
From that day I was never in a hurry again.
Although the Hawaiians natives never tell the tourist; all the roads on the island have a speed limit:
“Happiness”