Here’s the promised anecdote pertaining my earlier post “A simple way to focus in giving your best“:
It was a Saturday. Xavier, a reporter friend, and I met for late lunch at Jardin de Frida’s organic market, in Tulum, a sort of laid-back 60‘s oasis. It was a busy anniversary day for Frida’s hotel and garden, a relaxing and unique style place, a soul-child of friend Rafa.
As I prepped my camera seating on a long wooden bench at the table communitaire, two woman friends of Xavier’s approached and greeted him. I’m not much into questionnaire greetings, the sort that goes are you a photographer? Do you live here? Why had I not seen you before? Do you have kids? What do you write about? This is specially so, when all of these questions come packed in a single and first ever hello. So I remained withdrawn, installed my lens and looked for a way to dissolve into Frida’s ambience and become Cartier-Breson’s fly on the wall or better still, just invisible for being a regular.
I left Xavier in good company with a lively strong character French Elisabelle and a Mexican Teresa.
As afternoon faded into an evening, conversation was vey lively and I was back at the tables having a beer. I chatted with Hikuri – a young man from Tulum that has been the on-stage DJ playing for Cirque Du Soleil’s “Noir” performance around the globe, and that it also does so as a friend at Jardin de Frida-, as Elisabelle joined the conversation, not seating but standing in front of us.
An opinionated woman, she doubted of Hikuri’s self taught street and life school of English diploma, pointing out the unlikely possibility of having good English by doing so, though recognising the effort. After a while we were talking about Middle East travel. She emphasised her strong safety concerns for being a woman and the impossibility of travelling in those countries; she was never going to do it in her life at the fear of being raped. It was a roller coaster conversation with friendly but tense moments. Elizabeth intensity contrasted Hikuri’s relaxed acceptance of life.
Later, as I headed for my bicycle to leave, Elisabelle also did with her friend. It was eight thirty.
Next Monday a shaken Xavier arrived to our weekly ecology group citizen meeting and told me the news. Elisabelle Torvett Grannis had drowned at the beach and had been found late Sunday, drifting. She was the seventh victim in a few months. Tulum had not really heard about people drowning at all, in many years. This year, it has not been the case. I was shocked to learn about Elizabeth’s fate. My mind was blank.
A couple of days I inevitably realised how futile it is to be afraid of life and of those figments of our imagination that we see as our future at the very moment we imagine them. We do not really know, do we? Yet we lead our lives by those unreal thoughts and feelings, many of which are prostrating, rather than enabling.
This sad happening also spoke to me about the pointless quest of defending our rigid frameworks, which probably served us well to become, to learn, but hinder us from being, one minute after we constructed them. Flexibility, is not a way of life. It is a condition, and probably the most important one to live Life itself.
Life, as we know it, ends.
Becoming aware early on that choosing how to live it has everything to do to do with letting go of fears and expectations-ours and others’ – and accepting life – joy and disturbances – in peace, so we can focus on our gifts put to use to touch others, hopefully realising their potential before we cannot, seems of the very essence.
Elisabelle, rest in peace.
One important choice we do have by Juan Ayza M is licensed under a Creative Commons Reconocimiento-NoComercial-SinObraDerivada 3.0 Unported License.
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