When I was about 15 my mother took me to Greece. It was almost a pilgrimage for her, as she and her dad had dreamed of taking this trip for years, but had never done so. We did all the usual things - sight see, went to Delphi, visited family and friends. We took a harrowing ride down to Mani where many of our relatives were still living. My mom even loosened the rules about my dating and let me go out with a guy Michali, who was in college and I think a communist. It was all rather exciting.
But the most perfect moment happened (and it took me years to realize what it was) on the island of Crete. We were spending several days on the island, seeing Knossos and other antiquities. During our travels, we met up with a Canadian family from Vancouver - a widow like my mother and her two children Thea and Tom. It was one of those great casual travel acquaintances that make trips so wonderful.
One evening, the kids (me, Tom and Thea) wanted to go to the beach and swim. We had been good all day, traipsing through museums and ancient sites, so our mothers rented a car and took us to a fairly isolated beach so we could all play in the water.
I don't know the name of the beach or exactly where it's located, but what happened next burned itself into my memory and soul forever.
It was late in the day, and the sun was starting its downward descent. Thea had gone to sit on the sand with our moms leaving Tom and me in the water. To our left was a cape and to our right the setting sun and the Mediterranean sea. There were ruins in the distance on the cliff and when the sun hit them they were illuminated with an inner glow. Those same rays hit the water and turned the waves to molten gold. Tom and I swam out as far as we could and lay across the waves looking at the golden sky. It was a timeless combination of amazing scenery, a boy and girl, the sun and the magic of the island.
I don't know what ever happened to Tom and his family. I only know that now, when I need to meditate or calm myself - I go to that isolated beach in Crete and remember that one perfect moment.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
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