There is no time...

I have often been intrigued by the words we heard from a wise island man.

My friends and I were in a rush to arrive to a tiny island called Little Cay located off the Atlantic coast of Honduras. We were all very excited and felt a bit like movie stars as we talked of “our own private island,” which was probably no larger than a football field.

The ferry was not been running that day due to weather concerns, and Andrew was not one to wait around, especially because we had only rented the island for a couple of days. He went in search of a private boat that would take us from la Ceiba on the mainland to Utila, an island town just about 8 miles off the coast. From there, the owner of Little Cay would come to transport us to our island.

After an hour of searching, Andrew found a Cuban gentlemen, obviously worn by years at sea, to take us across. At first Andrew’s great idea seemed like a fun adventure. But after we left the security of the bay, the waves tossed our little ship all over and at times threatened to fill the entire boat with sea water. Our adventure had ceased to be fun and began to be frightening. Our captain did not seemed phased by the wind or the waves. The six of us, however, were hunched down in the boat, trying to keep the salt water out of our eyes, wondering if we would ever see blue sky again.

We finally made it to Utila, a set of washed up, weary travelers. We draped our clothes all over the dock, hoping they would dry in the sun that had finally reappeared. Two cell phones and one camera were rendered useless after encountering too much salt water.

Then, after an hour or two of waiting, mostly impatiently, on the dock. We saw our host coming to meet us in a boat. We were very eager to finally arrive to Little Cay. Our host seemed to notice our hurry. He greeted us, helped us load our things onto his long boat, and took us to the island.

At some point during our twenty minute excursion, he uttered the words that often come back to me in moments of hurry or impatience. Those moments when the future can’t get here soon enough. The moments when I rush from thing to thing, not even aware of myself or those around me.

“There is no time, only life,” he said.

That is how the island felt once we finally arrived. No time. No watches. No hurry. Just us friends, sharing life and food and conversation. Sometimes sitting together, other times walking around the island alone. We snorkeled. We laid in the sun. We tried to open coconuts. We buried our toes in the sand. We watched the hermit crabs that invaded the island each night. We saw the tall palm trees bent by the sea wind. We saw sunsets and sunrises. We enjoyed. We lived.

There is no time, only life.