While circumnavigating Viti Levu, I stopped in the two large cities anchoring the island, and countless villages on my way around.

The disparity between the two seemingly available options struck me. Nadi and Suva, as large as you would find on the islands, and full of resorts and tourist wealth. The smaller settlements — some no more than four or five houses in total — full of delightfully friendly people, who would run out into the road in front of my vehicle to say hello, offer me bananas, and just look, because seeing someone like me was both a grand adventure and joke.

Though most of the roads I traveled were not paved nicely (or at all, really) I made it around with only one flat tire, and in the car I started with which is, so I was told, apparently quite the miracle. However, at some point in the middle of the trip, I was offered the chance to visit a largely traditional village, not at all accessible by vehicle. Sixteen slow, meandering kilometers up the Navua River, a group of beautiful souls was willing to share kava and break bread with me.

How could I possibly say no?

 

I won't lie: it took a long time. The boats aren't fast. Most other traffic on the river is local farmers moving supplies by raft and pole. I lost track of the hours laying on the bow with my fingertips skimming the gentle ripples and the clouds moving in tandem with us overhead. The greenery that began to close in as the river narrowed felt almost jurassic. I had a lot of time to think — about what life was like in a village where all supplies came once every few weeks by boat; about what it would be like to be totally insulated from most everyone but your tight-knit community; about how to best culturally conduct myself; about how being forced to travel at this speed made me both more and less aware of my surroundings. And so, as we reach just after mid week and the peak of our stress levels, I simply share that dream-like voyage of mindfulness with you.

Nothing else needed. Just an all-enveloping, lazy, cerulean hued reminder to float slowly when you need to. You'll get there all the same.

 

If you're feeling rushed or anxious, stop and look up at the sky. Find a cloud, and focus on the way it scuds along, fluffy and leisurely and still persistent as fuck. We can do that too... it's just not quite as easy for us to release our thoughts and our anchors and go — slowly — with the wind and the waves.

Go on, get floating.

 
All of these photos are my own, taken on my travels all over this pretty blue marble of ours.
I hope you like them. 🌶️