Iaorana, (that's hello in Polynesian)
There is a moment in life where you come to the realization that life won’t last forever.
I wrote this some days ago sitting on this wooden pontoon over the French Polynesian lagoon, (I am now back in SF) staring at what was my memory of the dream of “the island of the blue lagoon” where I always dreamt of being Milla Jovovich, swimming naked in that crystal clear water.
Unfortunately, I can’t swim naked here. I suppose I could but I’m sure it might scandalize some innocent families, virgin to a random stranger exposing her intimate areas. So, I manage to wear a somewhat skimpy bathing suit and trampse around, hopefully not making wives jealous.
I remember that I’m not 25 anymore but am still holding onto a somewhat fit and beautiful body of a 44-year-old.
I think there is something in the hormonal perfume I put out that means I am nearly no longer fit for childbearing, which seems to have lessened my chemical attraction magnets.
Nether less, I try to come to terms with the fact that at 44, I should have some retirement saved up, a fairly steady lifestyle or at least building one to assure that I won’t be screwed in the future.
But I still feel like I’m a child. I hang out on a daily basis with my inner 5 yr. old, my shy 15 yr. old, my wild 25 yr. old, and my wiser 44 yr. old self. But I still have this inner fire that wants to bite into life and keep seeing, exploring, discovering and dreaming of falling in love with THE ONE.
The one that I’ll get to grow old with and share crackly toothless laughs when we fart.
Assuming I'll look something like this when I'm old...
I get shamed by people who don’t understand my conflictual relationship with aging.
The truth is, I’m scared.
I don’t want to be full of wrinkles, have a belly and not feel radiantly attractive.
There you go. I admit it. I am totally attached to being beautiful.
I surround my life with beauty, my home, the places I travel to, the clothes I wear, and I enjoy seeing my beauty in the mirror.
I have developed the wisdom of non-attachment over time, to homes, lovers, places, things and money, but it’s hard to develop non-attachment to my looks and the way I feel in my body.
I’ve been a model since I was 15 and I still model (for Loreal anti-wrinkle creams, go figure).
Recent Loreal campaign
I want to feel vibrant. I want to feel radiantly beautiful and I don’t want that ever to go away, ever.
I know, you’re probably saying to me, “Carly, develop your inner beauty and it will radiate on the outside. Look at me, I’ve had to live with my looks my whole life and I’m fine.
Yes, but honestly. It’s not that easy even though the theory is there.
Besides looks, what will my life look like!?
I sit here watching the water and realize, I don’t want to be hopping from rental homes all my life, confined to one area to be able to make money, etc.
What do I want my future to look like? Because it’s now that I have to think about it as time is moving towards the end, right? Look, you see that? Another wrinkle! (I posted a viral post about how we are dying and life is short here)
I’m pretty sure I want to finish my days in front of crystal-clear warm ocean water, along with enough money to provide for and see my son and have a partner. (now that the idea is churning, why not sooner than later...Hawaii..? )
The sense of deep connection I get here is profound like the coral reefs I’ve been diving daily.
How many of you would like to live oceanfront where you can just walk off your front yard and dive into paradisiacal waters?
For me the word Dream isn’t a Dream. It’s an ATTAINABLE DESIRE.
Everything I’ve ever set my intention on; I have gotten it.
I’m fully aware and convinced that everything is possible, you just have to know in your heart of hearts that you want it and that you CAN have it. (well maybe not getting rid of all wrinkles without a botox face...)
But before understanding what we really want comes the period of discomfort and dis-ease.
We aren’t happy anymore in a relationship, a home, a place. We find all sorts of things that don’t work about it, problems, challenges arise and it’s either our subconscious or our soul that is saying, it’s time to move on.
The discomfort is actually an indicator that something wants to shift.
It might be the way we look at something or a part of our being no longer resonates with the life we have created.
The only problem is we don’t believe that there can be something better than what we know now. So, we stay in the same situation for too long until it makes us sick and depressed.
The hardest part of having what we desire is shifting the belief system that thinks we can’t.
I too often have to get to the point of deep discomfort to change things, but generally my intuition has me walk off the deep end.
I just hold the hand of an invisible God and walk off the deep end.
That’s how I ended up in French Polynesia.
It doesn’t mean I’m not terrified, but I’ve trusted my gut so many times and every time, life got even better.
So, I’ve gotten used to the fear and just trusting.
But, it’s still tough, takes a bit of discomfort to get me moving.
I think there is something shifting in me.
Firstly, I decided to “let go of the struggle” this new year’s, the struggle with keeping my home, my relationship. I let go of the relationship and soon I may let go of the home.
I’m still processing grief, which is undeniably extremely uncomfortable, but the water has truly given me solace and healing on the road to recovery.
To where? I don’t know, but I am following a part of me that says there is something greater in store for me.
So back to aging and my wrinkle terror...
I got a tattoo! A Polynesian tattoo.
Polynesian tattoos are filled with symbology and drawn directly on your body to fit the shape. I filled this one with symbols of what I'm calling in and what I want to honor. All the symbols described on my IG post click here
The last time I got a tattoo, I was 18. The horizontal part of the tattoo on my lower back signified the transition from my hometown of Arizona to moving to San Francisco and becoming fully independent.
This time, it’s about honoring a transition, allowing myself to age, to step into a third phase of my life. It’s super scary.
It’s a walk off the deep end.
I sit here, imaging myself being 80 years old, full of wrinkles, maybe missing a few teeth, and staring out at the ocean with light eyes that reflect the glistening light on the water.
I have seen. I have lived. I have smiled. I have cried. I never said I couldn’t. I embraced life with the heart of a 5 yr. old, the whole way through.
I like to think that my 80 yr. old self finally trusted life completely. She would gently laugh and pat my shoulder and say “Carly, don’t worry, all those worries aren’t worth wasting your time. Just live and enjoy every step of the way, you deserve to choose to follow what makes you feel vibrant the whole way. Trust my dear. Trust. “
So how was French Polynesia?
On island of Moorea
I ate raw fish every day. I had the scents of pineapples, mangos and passion fruit and Tiare flowers inebriating my senses daily.
I lived in a bungalow near the water with rarely a guest in the other 5 bungalows.
The road I biked daily to the dive center was filled with fruit vendors, random dogs, chickens and people saluting me. The turquoise lagoon is on one side and the volcanic jungle on the other side. The dive center is a little hut located on a white sand beach.
I dove every day with lemon sharks, gray sharks and immense sea turtles galore.
I read, stared at the clouds, watched the ocean.
I spent hours snorkeling and got menaced by Picasso triggerfish who get all pissed off if I got near their coral hood. Little bastards…
I slept feeling the rocking of the ocean swell literally in my body.
I drank a pina colada or a mai tai at sunset and occasionally went out to eat with new friends from the island, but mostly I was alone.
I made myself the best meals ever, along with my new specialty, pan fried caramelized banana and nuts topped with plain yoghurt.
Overall, it was exactly what the doctor (or my somatic body) ordered.
Coming back, something shifted. I was able to cut the emotional cord of my past relationship. I can finally move on. Yes, occasionally letting the waves of grief arise, which they will, but overall this was the best gift I could offer myself.
