Off The Grid

I am standing alone on a flawless, white sand beach, enveloped by the evening sky, only the dusky glow of the moon is sweeping a sheen across the empty shore. The waves are rising and falling over my bare feet, the soft sound of them are being pulled back into sea. There’s nothing like facing the edge of a vast ocean alone at nightfall. You experience a fleeting, glorious moment where you can feel insignificant, yet extraordinary at the very same time.

Jeremy and I were pirates for five days exploring the remote, pristine islands of Palawan, setting sail aboard an outrigger boat carrying 23 passengers, 9 crew nicknamed The Lost Boys, and Berghain, the sea dog. No phones. No electricity. No cars. No running water. I have used a bucket for washing the sea salt off of my hair and body, I have slept in a bamboo hut draped in a mosquito net every night, and I still have a million bites up and down my legs. We snorkeled in the crystal sea every day, were greeted with a few, friendly stings from jellies, anchored roughly 50 yards off shore every afternoon, and swam that distance to reach our secluded base camp for the evening. We met the finest of people; fresh, beautiful, vibrant faces from every bend of the world. We laughed together until our cheeks ached, drank sweet rum, played games, and sang songs until the rest of the world slipped away. I felt free and sandy and dirty and happy.

We heard about Tao Philippines from a fellow wayfaring stranger, another soul wandering the world with her husband. She spoke of Tao with such enthusiasm and praise, Jeremy and I knew we couldn’t pass up this rare opportunity. Tao means “human” in Filipino and humans are the ones that are shifted, sustained, and enriched through this one-of-a-kind organization. Tao’s proceeds directly fund organic farming and education projects, employ women and out-of-work fisherman, and uphold an admirable effort towards the conservation of Palawan’s fragile environment. My conscience feels at peace knowing that our dollars are contributing towards a worthy and pure cause, especially when, as a whole, we’ve reached an alarming tipping point where the inundation of tourism is shutting down sought-after destinations.

I am transfixed by the horizon before me, set aflame and smeared with shades of pinks, oranges, yellows, and purples. How could life ever be deemed dull when we have sunsets everyday? I haven’t lived within four walls for five days and it has done something to my insides. Jeremy and I have actually been given the chance to slowly reel back time; waking up with the sun, going to sleep by candlelight, only eating what can be caught in the sea or grown on the island. I stand here, with my feet bare to the ground, realizing life is everything you will ever need at its simplest. I am surrounded by warm faces, strangers who have become friends in a matter of days. I know that gold-hearted, decent people are everywhere, that laughter can be shared around every table you sit at, and that every human you come into contact with has the potential to teach you something, but only if you’re open enough to receive it.

Jeremy and I are fast approaching the end of this transformative chapter, unearthing pieces of the world different than what we have known, and we are different because of it. You cannot venture outside of your bubble, encounter new realms of our planet, and return the same. Japan will be our final stopover, where we will be bowing, slurping, and chopstick-ing it up all over the place. We will finally be flying back to California for a brief visit, packing up our sparse belongings, and hitting the wide, open road, switching our brains back to driving on the right side of the road again. We’ll be road-tripping across the country, enjoying friends and family along the way, and finally settling in Connecticut for a bit to recoup from our globetrotting shenanigans.

Konichiwa Japan!

Cheers,

Tera

Photo Credit: Peter Van Engelandt & Philipp Unger