The Grand Wailea Resort on Maui has the Credo’s of being the most pampered and self indulged place of the who’s who on Maui but it’s not. The Fairmont in Kea Lani Maui is. The pomp of the former is subdued in the latter for the convenience of the guests that enjoy the luxury without the frills of decor to state it.
My former wife’s partner in her medical group was a quiet man from a distance and a opinionated uptight voice up close.
I had run into him on vacation at The Grand Wailea. It was at the morning buffet that I engaged him briefly as I meandered about the endless choices of eggs, fruits, pastries and what have you. It gives me a uneasy emotion as to how one has to wear a feeling of grandiosity observing the immense selection of choices available to one because of your status in life. Nothing is anymore or any less. It’s all the same as once you passed the threshold of certain monetary restrictions based on cost the splendor of over indulgence is waved.
I attempted to make small talk with him as I purveyed the harvest before me. He was in a mood of hurry and annoyance picking out his food. A part of me can be dismayed even know remembering his watermark of pretentious aloof but of course its the alchemy of a man who doesn’t know his roots. Who could possibly be annoyed on a tropical Maui morning of 8am in a garden of beckoning to your self.
Be it as that may I could always sense a draw to him of me at private parties or public functions in his group. As he always played on the target of my muscular development in topics of gym warfare. Be it military presses, bent over rows or some free weight invention of movement as he was quick to make me know he was apart of that facet of style. Since his slender carbohydrate depleted physique didn’t speak for itself.
I would always try to give him the ceremonial ring of being apart of what ever circle he thought my physique gave me, by playing into his diatribe.
I remember how they so called exemplary surgeons would comment on my wordless but visual status and give me prompts of some exclusive achievement of something I owned in a achieved title of some sort. Like somehow I deserved to wear as initials of a Body Builder on my coat so where ever I went people would know the time I took and effort spent to achieve such a status.
Well I always down played any credential or achievement when it was encountered and would play myself undeserving using a idiom of being a “meathead” who enjoys a personal relationship with a dumbbell on a reoccurring basis.
Well it was a few years ago that I went to see my ex for a problem I was having with my vision and she referred me to her partner for a more prescribed diagnosis.
I must say that I was quite surprised during my visit to his examine chair. As the man who always appeared to me out of place in his own shoes was quite in step. He carried his exam with both professional and personal but apt attention. He explained his path that he took and spent the time to interpret and question my subjective interpretation of my problem and then did a superior explanation of his objective surmise with a assessment to the plan of treatment he proposed. He was the definition of the initials he wore on his coat with a 4 star rating. His confidence was not in any form of grandiosity or display. It was what he was as he was that showed what he was, he did not need anything at that time to convey a message of definition but himself as he wore it in himself.
I never got the chance to personally tell him how impressed I was by my experience and thank him for doing what he does as he does it with such perfection.
In hindsight I would have liked to confided in him that how ever well people might view me in my physique that comparatively speaking I never was part of the caliber I competed against on stage as my symmetry and genetics didn’t compare to the many I stood and posed along side and even atypical last competition which was 3 or 4 years back that I felt the most comfortable I ever did on stage. I never came close to meeting the bar of what ever title I was suppose to own for having spent two decades training and learning how to become. He how ever filled the shoes of his life’s work with a much better fit then I had ever owned.
I wouldn’t however share with him my understanding that any parts we or I play in life aren’t real. They are a visual stream that creates a back drop to a story that is told for the purpose of experiencing itself. Love only wants to know love and if anything could define God love would come closest. The play is not real but the beauty it strives to be is all it ever is and nothing any of us could achieve or fail at could make it any better or worse.
We already are everything we could ever be. We are just playing a part in a story about it. So the depth of our space or the superficiality of our indifference only adds to the storyline that serves its own purpose.