If the manta stops swimming, it dies.

The night sand was cold as I collapsed and buried my toes deeply. After walking for days and hours looking for a place to get free food, or a place to sleep, my feet and legs needed a break. The cool and coarse natural island slipper somehow soothed the ache and burn that radiated from the top of my bare feet - piercing through to the bottom. The pain was so intense that I was noticeably limping down Kalakaua Avenue.?"Are you okay?" friendly tourists and kind strangers would ask.

I was at least grateful for some relief as I sat and looked out at a dark and mystical pacific ocean. Once my eyes adjusted away from the Waikiki lights, I saw a sky as flooded with stars as the ocean with its tides. The night sky reminded me of growing up in Oklahoma when on occasion, I would lie back on a round bale of hay, staring up at the stars. It was like a blanket.

A calming breeze would hit my sunburnt face as each wave rolled in, barely brushing up against the edge of my natural spa-like pedicure - complete with exfoliation and cold compress. The more I looked up at the endless night, the more alone and isolated I felt from the world. In between the thunderous roll of a wave hitting the beach, I could hear people from the hotels and restaurants just above me. There was hearty laughter mixed with arguments and rigorous debating. I could hear the clinking of glasses as someone made a toast to a newlywed couple. I overheard the shouts of camaraderie between service members, who had just finished a long day at the local base, downing fireball shots.?

My body was beginning to shake a little from the breeze. In my desperation, I thought about walking up the steps from the beach and asking the service members for a shot of fireball. “That could warm me up,” I thought to myself. The only nutrition I consumed during the week was free mai tais and pretzels from the local gay bar.?

I had befriended several bartenders upon my recent move to the island. My new friends were kind, welcoming, and compassionate, but they had no idea I didn’t have a place to live. Or that I had no money. Although I routinely consumed a free mai tai and pretzels at 10 a.m. every day for the last week, I’m sure they knew something about me was unusual. I wasn’t the first homeless gay man they knew, and I certainly wouldn’t be the last.?

I reached into my backpack for my Missouri State Bears hoodie, but it didn’t do much to comfort me as the shakes progressively worsened. I started to cry. I could feel the stress and emotion boiling. I don’t believe it was a coincidence that I was sitting just down from the side of a dormant volcano. “How did I end up here? What did I do wrong?” And, just like the Hawaiian volcano deity Pele, I was about to erupt.?

The crying turned into uncontrollable sobbing and shaking. Coupled with my erratic breathing, my current predicament somehow placed me into a pre-syncopal state. My body immediately warmed over as if something or someone draped a warm and heavy blanket over my shoulders. My hands and arms started to tingle and become clammy as a single bead of sweat fell from my forehead. In a matter of perhaps one short minute, I went from shaking wildly to a calm focus.

I leaned into my current state with curiosity. “What do I have to lose at that point?” I was on the edge of having a syncopal episode, a term I became familiar with several years prior from a cardiologist. Instead of creating more anxiety for myself by ignoring or trying to avoid the feeling and fear of losing complete control, “What if I embraced it?” I thought to myself. “What if I lost complete control? What then?”?

I was without a home. I was without financial resources. I was hungry. And I was very alone. Somehow I lost feeling, thought, and track of time and space. However, I felt safe and at ease. I could no longer hear the people and noises from above. I could only see darkness, and it strangely soothed me. I was simultaneously unimportant and calm.?

“This moment will be a memory. Nothing more. Keep swimming.”??

As real as my pain, these words came to me. Over and over, the mantra repeated throughout my entire body. From my blistering scalp to my burnt feet, the mantra swept over and through me, creating intense and radiating energy. My collapsed shoulders and neck perked up, and the crying stopped. My face relaxed, and I smiled.

As I centered back to a more conscious state of awareness, I heard something that sounded different from the tide crashing. I could hear a slight and closer break in the water, like something popping up for air. At first, I thought someone was taking a night swim. My curiosity dug in deep the more I heard the sound, and I gently left my bag and beach blanket for the water. The more I stepped into the ocean, the clearer I could identify what I saw. Each time the object surfaced, the distant Waikiki lights would reflect off its slippery and shiny black back.?

I was knee-high in the ocean and felt I was far enough. I didn’t want to leave my meditative spot without knowing what I saw and heard. Finally, at about fifteen feet away, I saw a triangular form. On each point of the large moving triangle was a white tip. Once I traced the pattern of the white tips, I could make out the entire form. It was a large manta ray. Immediately, my stomach sank, and my heart seemed to explode out of my chest! “Am I actually seeing this?” I thought to myself. I zeroed in on the large and majestic creature. It seemed to swim in a figure-eight pattern by watching its contrasting white belly. I wasn’t scared or anxious. It didn't seem bothered by me either. Suddenly, I felt a burst of joy and gratitude surge through my body, and I began laughing through the tears!?

I didn’t think about nor realize the rarity of the moment. For perhaps a minute or two more, I watched the ray make a few subtle flaps before I couldn’t see or feel the presence of it. I returned to my blanket where I’d slept that night. The next day during my morning mai tai and pretzels, I shared with my local friend what I saw. He replied with a “fun fact.” “Hey! Did you know if a manta stops swimming, it dies?”

Lesson: Movement is breath. Breath is life. Keep moving - no matter the situation.?

-Clinton Shane ??