And that's where I stay, tapping on my keyboard uninterrupted for hours until the dawn paints the sky flaming reds with breathtaking saffrons and oranges. There's one tiny dark cloud in the middle of this spectacle - but it only emphasizes the brilliance of the colors.
A radiant young Fijian girl I met yesterday, comes walking down the beach, evidently the first person other than me who's awake at this hour. At first I think she's going somewhere. But then I realize she's walking towards me. She's coming to tell me something. When she gets near enough, she stops. Pointing to the tiny dark cloud, she says "The rain is coming, Mr Laurence. You must go inside now."
The rain is coming? Mr Laurence? You must go inside now? How sweet is that, I think to myself. What a nice way to make conversation! (I only get later, much later, how patronizing this is). "Vinaka vaka levu!" (pronounced vee nakkah vakkah lay voo, the Fijian words for thank you very much) I call out to her ... and continue tapping on my keyboard without moving. She looks at me as if she's about to say something, doesn't, then turns and walks away down the beach. There's no rain in sight. It's not going to rain. And even if it does drizzle later, I speculate, I'm sheltered here on this quaint grass roofed dock.
Out of the corner of my eye I notice the tiny dark cloud again. Fully immersed in the creative process which is generating Conversations For Transformation, what I don't notice is that erstwhile tiny little dark cloud? It's gotten bigger ... and it's coming closer ... and getting bigger ... and coming closer ...
|Communication Promise||E-Mail | Home|
|© Laurence Platt - 2013 through 2016||Permission|