Bonaire Archives - Page 3 of 6 -

A Wild Heart Always Has Hope

By Simone Lipscomb | June 15, 2014

Stanley Kubrick awakened me this morning in his attempt to snuggle closer. My orange tabby and his sisters missed me during my two week absence as I recharged and renewed my life in my spiritual home, Bonaire.

Unable to return to the land of dreams, I felt a shell forming around me…the one that I unconsciously assemble when away from the wilds of the magic of the desert island that touches me like no other place. When I make my yearly pilgrimage I feel it immediately cast off as soon as I walk down the stairs from the plane to the ground in the high, dry winds. Once the ground of Bonaire is underfoot I enter a deep place within myself.

On the final dive of the visit home, I turned to face the deep, blue water past the reef. My hands folded in a prayer position, I thanked the community of life there that welcomes me and nurtures me so profoundly. As I gently flipped my fin to turn back toward shore, I noticed a smallish green turtle slowly and effortlessly swimming in across my path. I stopped and watched and started laughing with joy. How perfect! For many years my logo has been a sea turtle and so the many, many teachings received and lessons learned from these two weeks were given the proverbial icing on the cake.

As I surfaced I turned and look back over the Ocean toward the mountains at the north end of the island. The setting sun was golden as it sparkled on the water’s surface. Suddenly I burst into joy-enduced laughter that was in no hurry to subside.

Another desert visit on Friday and then it was Saturday, time to leave. This is no easy task for me…aside from repacking dive gear, photography gear, computer and clothes. Uprooting myself from this sacred place is painful, so deep is the connection I feel to it.

As I sat next to the Ocean in the pre-dawn moments, the full moon hung amidst puffy clouds in the lightening sky. The rising sun’s light began to reflect onto the cloud which in turn reflected on the Ocean’s surface and then to me. It felt like the resplendent light of the Universe was touching me to ease the pain of leaving.

The pull of the moon on the sea has the same pull on me, my own inner tides. Turquoise and indigo saltwater bliss were inches from my toes and once again I was conscious of the Oneness of life.

Little crabs, at home in their crab kingdom, creeped closer and closer to my still toes. Wind whipped through my long mermaid hair. Salt air filled my lungs with each deep breath I took and with the exhalation feelings were given space to be…joy, sadness, grief, gratitude.

The bells of Her voice spoke through the tinkling coral pieces washing in the surf, in the wind whispering through cactus needles and by osmosis as I spent over 31 hours beneath the surface during my time there. Be fluid, be movable. Be open to the tides of your life. Live in awareness and awake to the energies of the planet. Be an ally to all life of the planet.

The downy breast of the tiny dove cradles her heart thats warmth touches mine. The iguana’s reptile heart, encased in rough scales on leathery skin, beats a rhythm I feel. The small but strong hearts of tiny crabs skittering along the shore’s edge, give yet another cadence. Each part of life pulses to its own, unique beat yet exists in harmony with all other life. We are all connected by one beating, planetary heart.

My favorite experience of the two week journey happened on a solo dive:

While diving at the Salt Pier I floated weightless among a huge school of small-mouth grunts. Their deep gold stripes and fins were brilliant against the deeper blue water beyond the pilings. Hovering horizontal, unmoving except how the Ocean chose to move us, the fish and I became one life, connected by water. Their large black eyes watched me, unconcerned. I was no threat, only part of the whole, in sync with them, in harmony. Almost an hour spent floating, gently drifting with the ever-so-slight undulations of the sea, surrendered, at peace. Part of the whole. Connected.

A friend recently reminded me that a wild heart always has hope. This is my life’s song:

Into the blue, into the blue

Deeper and deeper I drop.

Gliding down to the briny deep,

The spiral continues in my journey of love,

Of compassion…of hope.

Ik Rem Ook Voor Ezels

By Simone Lipscomb | June 11, 2014

I brake for donkeys.

There was no need to brake as I could hardly move so many donkeys were surrounding my truck. A herd of donkey zombies had me cornered and refused to move…or so it seemed.

The Donkey Sanctuary is a 143 acres on Bonaire where feral donkeys are cared for. They are left-overs from the salt production efforts many years ago but were set-free after machinery took over their jobs. Rather than ship them back to Spain, they were released into this desert of cactus and thorny bushes to fend for themselves.

Volunteers at the sanctuary work hard to keep them healthy and offer visitors an opportunity to meet those in their care. The only suggestion I have is to not sell carrots for people to feed them. I happily donated the money for carrots but didn’t want them as I didn’t want the donkeys swarming my truck. But they are well-trained and know how to ambush a vehicle, make it stop by stepping in front of it and then accost anyone within reach of an open window. I think this is really bad behavior for the donkeys to develop.

It got to the point where I turned around and left, so nerve-wracking was it to try to even move the truck. I applaud the good work they do and greatly appreciate the love and care they give these animals. I hope they will stop all feeding from vehicles to retrain these adorable and insistent four-legged friends to not step in front of, ambush, bite windows, bite mirrors, bite people who refuse them food, gnaw on bumpers, run beside vehicles. This is seriously dangerous behavior for them.

Bob Marley Speaks

By Simone Lipscomb | June 8, 2014

Dawn. I was walking with my scuba gear to the Ocean. As I approached the entry, an osprey cried and I glanced up. Just above the dive benches was the magnificent fish hawk perched in a tree. He flew out over the water as I continued walking. I’ve seen them many times but never perched on a tree…over the bench I was about to use. Pretty big smile to carry into the dive.

Nice dive, beautiful fish, easy 54 minutes of gentle kicking and gliding and watching life on the reef begin the day. No other human here, just the Ocean and this mermaid-woman hybrid. And today I went further, to an area where elk horn coral ‘trees’ are being used to grow this coral species. I felt resounding H O P E throughout my being. There are people that care, that are taking action to help. Another smile with my entire being.

During the time underwater I thought of a former dive buddy and smiled at the saltwater happiness we experienced in years past. My heart and mind sent him gratitude and love, that energy that never dies or changes…only grows and deepens as compassion grows within us. Heart happy goodness, a smiling heart for this human sea-creature.

Photo from the internet....don't know who to credit with it. — *Photo from the internet….don’t know who to credit with it.*

After the dive, as I was walking back to the condo…still dripping with sea water and lost in the peaceful feeling of saltwater baptism…I saw two bright yellow birds wearing bright, orange caps. The saffron finches watched me walk up to the sidewalk where they were perched and so I stopped and greeted them. They stared at me in my state of saltwater sogginess and gave me a message as we connected for several moments.

At the time I didn’t really know what it was they were telling me, but a few minutes later I got it. Even though Bob Marley sang of three little birds, that’s the song that came to mind and reminded me of the sweetness of life…in this moment…in the present. Now.

“Don’t worry about a thing, ‘Cause every little thing gonna be alright. Singin’: Don’t worry about a thing, ‘Cause every little thing gonna be alright. Rise up this morning, smile with the risin’ sun, ‘two’ little birds, Each by my doorstep singing’ sweet songs, of melodies pure and true saying’ this is my message to you…don’t worry about a thing. ‘Cause every little thing gonna be alright.”

There is hope within this mermaid woman today….for all life, for every living thing. So today, as I welcomed the day in my saltwater way, I smiled with the risin’ sun and it has been shining all day long within me.

Note: Many of you have asked me about the solo scuba diving I do. I wanted to write a tiny bit about that…first, I am an instructor and whenever I’m with students, especially new students, I’m basically solo diving with the added responsibility of whoever is with me. Secondly, I am certified as a self-reliant/solo diver. Third, as a sidemount certified cave diver I am basically solo diving in the cave (with other people present of course) because of the way my gas supply is configured. And lastly, I have hundreds of dives and use my cave diving ‘rules’ when solo diving…I turn the dive when I reach thirds so I have two-thirds of my gas supply to return on, etc. And I always dive shallow enough to do a controlled emergency swimming ascent to the surface if necessary. I do NOT condone solo diving and always, always encourage divers to keep in practice and get instruction for new kinds of dives. A solo diver must be well-equipped in underwater navigation skills and self-rescue skills….etc. So please do NOT go off on your own as a scuba diver unless you have extensive dive experience and proper training.

Elemental Magic

By Simone Lipscomb | June 6, 2014

Being underwater is like home to me but being in the desert in Washington Slagbaai National Park is where I feel elemental energies of the planet the strongest.

The dirt roads of the park are filled with rocks, ruts, cactus bits, lizards and dust. The three hour drive through the park takes much patience to navigate the terrain. But to me the heat, dust and bumps that can make it uncomfortable only add to the uniqueness of this special place.

The island is shaped like the number ‘7’ and when visiting the north end of the island you begin in desert, connect with the Ocean on the east side of the island, north side and finally the west side while navigating through cactus and other desert vegetation. I could go on about the geology and natural history of it, but the reason I return every year is the way it affects me, the way it makes me feel, the strong sense of primal Earth energies that are still potent here.

My inner wildness feels drawn out as the sun’s heat draws moisture from my body. As my sweat mixes with salt spray blowing from the Ocean and across knife-sharp iron rock, my spirit is released to dance in strong winds–strong winds, strong spirit. There is no room for weakness here. Strength calls forth strength.

Shade only exists beneath thorny trees and near rock outcroppings made of ancient, fossilized coral so life is harsh, intense. Few humans exist here and efforts to establish dwellings have mostly failed. There are some places that should be left wild and untouched for the spirits of nature to roam and play and be untouched by humanity.

I too want to maintain wildness within me, never to be domesticated or tamed. Anyone who tries to tame my wild spirit soon understands the futility of the effort. I cherish it and love it and nurture it by connecting with places that sing to it through the dance of elemental magic.

A Little More Kindness

By Simone Lipscomb | June 5, 2014

Journal entry from 8am this morning:

My hands are still damp, I’m still in my wetsuit, but I wanted to write while the emotions are still fresh.

I had just turned my solo morning meditation dive when in front of me glided a large spotted eagle ray. Her long, thin tail trailing behind–a thin, black line against the blue sea. Her face beautiful in its beak-like design, eyes watching me as I watched her.

She arched across my right side leaving the sand flats where she had fed and headed down the top of the reef. I stopped and witnessed her graceful beauty–the slow, steady beat of her wings underwater–and felt my heart open as it does when beauty such as this touches me softly with its unexplainable magic.

So close to this magnificent creature was I, our eyes connected and thus did our innermost being.

She swam on and I did, too, parting with joy and appreciation. As I slowly kicked back, away from the ray, I felt a renewed commitment to cultivate kindness and gentleness for all creatures and especially those who are innocent of the abuses humans perpetuate apon their homes.