Recently I hiked the Kalalua Trail. Chances are most of you who read this have no idea what that is. A quick primer on the trail – its in Kauai and hikes the 11 miles along the Napali Coast. It is the only legal route to Kalalua Beach and its famous waterfall. It’s also dangerous. Some outdoor articles and magazines put it as the second most dangerous trail in the US, others list it as the fourth. Either way, I can indeed confirm that it is dangerous. Not for the faint of heart, or those with a fear of ledges or cliffs. What makes it dangerous are three things – rain, clay, height. Rain – it rains 300+ days on the NaPali coast and the rainiest spot on Earth is a mere few miles away from the coast. Clay – red clay is slick, and sticky. But not the sticky you want. It clumps up on your shoes and turns them into ice skates. Height – the trail averages 12 inches in width, is 300-800 feet above the ocean (often directly below). And because it isn’t travelled or maintained well, there are consistent washouts and no level spots. If you are bored google “Crawlers Ledge.”
With that all said – its one of the most beautiful spots I’ve ever had the opportunity to hike. My hike in was perfect – the hike back to civilization had its moments of terror and complete trust in my body. I had my SOS on standby on my GPS, just in case.
Some of you are probably thinking, why would you do this? I get that. Continue reading.
In 2016 I sold the businesses I started – both were in the alcohol segment, and one of them in 3 quick years had grown to be the 5th largest in its category. My team and I had launched a rocket ship and were attempting to navigate it. Suddenly a “buyer” emerged out of nowhere, I wasn’t looking to sell, but as I travelled to a different country and sat around a conference table with this prospective buyer it quickly became clear that I’d be foolish not to capitalize on this opportunity. Therefore I sold. And a partnership was born.
I was asked to stay on for 4 years to help guide the transition. An appropriate analogy for this is getting married after the first date and being required to stay married for 4 years. It didn’t go well. At all. The marriage ended 3 years in, they divorced me. Took my keys and asked me not to go back to my office to get my things.
So here I am, a little over a year after this divorce, with my back resting against the sand of Kalalua Beach. I’m a human starfish. Breathing deeply as I look at the stark blue sky as it contrasts the deep and rugged cliffs. This is heaven. The ocean is crashing behind me and I’m the only one around. I reach in my pocket and pull out headphones. I never bring headphones on a hike, ever. But on this trip I grabbed them and tucked them away. I pull out my phone and hit repeat on “Follow the Sun” by Xavier Rudd. I’m suddenly taken to another level of heaven.
I lay here for a long time. Mind wandering to nothing – nothing at all. I suddenly find myself craving a little nugget of weed to elevate me even more. But flying to an island doesn’t allow me to carry this.
I stand up, grab my backpack, which I tossed about 10 yards back, and look for a place to pitch my tent. This sandy beach is my home for the next 44 hours – and I have a mission – a mission issued to me by my therapist and friends. Shed. The. Weight. Of. The. Terrible. Partnership. And. Ending.
I pitch my tent next to a Passion Fruit vine and Guava tree. Goats quickly come over to greet me and welcome me to their home. Or maybe they are just checking me out.
I have names on a page, names of people I worked with. Some of them for a decade or more, some of them for just a few years. But all these names mean something to me because they are people who played a key role in the companies I managed. I have a separate list of names, these names bring up the darkest corners of me. Vitriol. Hate. Anger. Disgust. My mission is to write each of these people a letter. A letter that I may our may not send to them – because at the end of the day writing the letter isn’t for them. It’s for me. I started two companies and bore all the burdens and joys of that for over a decade and I didn’t get an ounce of closure. So I’m creating my own. Moving on as they say. But attempting to move on with health and Shalom.
First up, the letters of love and appreciation. I dive into these, taking my time, savoring my thoughts. I think about what I want to say before the pen hits the paper for the first time. There is so much to say to each of these people. So much appreciation and love for their time and their energy that they gave. So much that I had planned to say, but didn’t get the chance. It feels like I am writing to a dead person. And in some ways I am. My relationship with all these people was complex. I was their boss. Their bosses boss. Friend. But that changed the moment I was let go. Now I’m their ex-boss. Their ex-bosses boss. Maybe still their friend.
The words begin to flow and soon I have filled up pages upon pages of gratitude. I take a break. Jump in the ocean, get tossed around by nature for a bit, and lay on the beach again. It’s only been 20 hours since I arrived but I already feel different. Lighter. My chest moves up and down more freely with my breathe. My shoulders drop down and back.
I dry off and decide its time to write the other letters. I can feel my body change as I walk up the beach to my notepad. I’m not in heaven for these two minutes. I’m elsewhere. Deep in my thoughts of anger and hate. As I flip open my notepad and write the individuals name who I hate the most I scream. The goats run away. I scream again. It feels good. I scream a third time and tears begin to flow. I fight my inner “fight or flight” instinct and stare at the name on the page. This is what I came here to do. This is why I picked this beach for this task.
Pen hits paper and 2 words emerge. All caps. Two more words emerge, the same ones, but this time bigger. I suddenly feel something other than anger. I keep writing. Not sure what I’m going to write next. There is no savoring of these words. These are words of the gut. Words of the deep part of the gut. That part that turns and churns. My hand cramps. I release the pen and realize all the anger is being channeled through an “extra fine” ball point. I feel like I need a supersize Sharpie and a bill board.
I pick up the pen and continue. One page, two pages, two and a half pages and I’m done. I’m exhausted. Marathon exhausted. I fall back on the sand one more time and it starts to rain. A rainbow emerges to my right and I smirk. I stand up and run toward the waterfall. I stand in the pool below the waterfall and drench myself with water from it. A baptism. Arms spread high and I scream one more time. Release.
The rain stops. It’s humid now. I eat a couple passion fruit. I’m different. Deeply different. I can feel a space in my chest that has not been present for a long time. Last time I felt this was the day I met Michelle.
I grab my pen one last time. On top of the page I write the name of my soon-to-be-born daughter. “Dear _____. You aren’t born yet, but here’s a few things I will tell you the moment you are…I love you. You are beautiful. You are good. Trust your heart. Listen to your gut. Be brave. Be bold. Be kind. This world will try to destroy all of these. Don’t let it. Cling deeply to these truths.”
I write some more to her. Listen to some more Xavier Rudd. And stare at the cliffs. It truly is the most beautiful place I’ve been to.
Kalalua Beach you have been good to me. I don’t know when I’ll be back. But I hope my daugher is with me and I can tell her how her father was reborn on this beach, on a sunny day in October 2020.
Xavier Rudd – Follow The Sun
Follow, follow the sun
And which way the wind blows
When this day is done
Breathe, breathe in the air
Set your intentions
Dream with care
Tomorrow is a new day for everyone,
Brand new moon, brand new sun
So follow, follow the sun,
The direction of the bird,
The direction of love
Breathe, breathe in the air,
Cherish this moment,
Cherish this breath
Tomorrow is a new day for everyone,
Brand new moon, brand new sun
When you feel life coming down on you,
Like a heavy weight
When you feel this crazy society,
Adding to the strain
Take a stroll to the nearest waters
And remember your place
Many moons have risen and fallen long, long before you came
So which way is the wind blowin’,
And what does your heart say?
So follow, follow the sun,
And which way the wind blows
When this day is done