I was going to write about the community of dogs in Tofo, Mozambique.
The way that they are so like, and so part of, the community of people.
Many of them look the same, like somewhere along the line they are all related. Could be their environment and how they spend hours running in groups on the beach. The one that happened to be a little shorter than the rest labouring behind. Regular debate about who the fastest dog in Tofo is.
Most of them owned because they were found. Puppies on the side of the road or young beach dogs that don’t trust anyone until they are adopted and shown a little love. The ones not owned taken under the wing of passers by, people chipping in for vet treatment or food. Giving them a place they may never have found.
Some of the hardest just the ones that need some extra care. I little bit of understanding. Opportunity for redemption.
Much like the people.
However, I thought about this a lot today and decided to write about the idea of an extraordinary life.
I sat at the beach reading a book I have to review about life in Hawaii in the late 60’s and early 70’s. The newly born idea of ‘dropping off the grid’ rife during this era. People with extraordinary skills living extraordinary lives. Yet not really realising how special it was.
I fell asleep mid read and woke up with awkwardly shaped sunburn on my back, so went to hang some toes on tiny peelers out front, my fin whistling as it slid across the dense seasonal kelp in the water.
My life is already extraordinary. I wave dance daily. I have just returned from places most people around me would never dream of going to. I am flying to the other side of the country on the weekend to chase my dreams. Yet, always inside of me is the burn for more. To go further. Be better. Know more.
A burn with the kind of urgency of someone that is going to die soon. Maybe it is normal. In fact it probably is. Its tiresome at times, but drives me at others.
Why do we seek to be extraordinary? Why are we not content, like those dogs on the beach? Content with the company of those we run with, the breeze in our hair and the freedom to run as fast as our legs will carry us. Do they ever think of what’s out there?
I think they just think about the crabs they can dig up or the stray fish that gets lost in the sand.