Little Squirrels Can Climb Tall Trees, Michael Murphy [best books to read for self development .txt] 📗

my view, it’s an okay beach, but there are far better beaches in the world. Hell, there are far better beaches in Hawaii and elsewhere on this island. This one is just famous because when people first started coming to Hawaii and when the jet age began, most people simply came to Waikiki and didn’t venture out anywhere beyond. There weren’t a lot of people here, there wasn’t a lot of development, and most people just wanted to lie on a beach soaking up the sun, thawing out from a cold winter back somewhere else.

“We’re on the island of Oahu, one of the eight main Hawaiian Islands. While this one is not the biggest, it is the most populated island with something like 80 percent of the state’s population living here. I’ve never really understood it, but a lot of people come to Hawaii and never venture off Oahu.

“Oahu is not the biggest, but with more than a hundred miles of coastline, it’s not exactly tiny, either. After we’ve had a day or two to get acclimated to the climate, the time zone, and all that shit, I’ll take you out and drive you around the island to show you some of the other beaches. There’s one not too far over that way,” I said, pointing toward Diamond Head once again, “that I think is a phenomenal beach. It’s called Hanauma Bay. It’s a nature preserve and a marine sanctuary. The waters are awesome—so clear. The water is shallow, and there are some amazing tropical fish that hang out there. It’s a great place to snorkel.

“If you go on past there, you come to Sandy Beach. It’s about ten minutes past Hanauma Bay near the Halona Blowhole.”

“The what?”

“The Halona Blowhole. Don’t worry, I’ll take you there. It’s a popular beach with locals but can be dangerous because of the way the ground falls away underwater. Waves come in there harder than you expect.

“And one of the best beaches—well, at least if you like to surf and you’re any good at it—is Waimea Bay. That place is legendary. In the wintertime the waves that come in there are just simply monstrous. If you want to ride the big boys and you know what you’re doing, that’s the place to go. Guys have been flocking to Waimea Bay to surf since the 1950s. In the summertime the waves are much smaller, and you can actually go swimming and snorkeling there. But when the big waves are crashing, hang on—they’re incredible.

“And if you’re a really, really good surfer and you’re willing to take some risks, you can go a little farther on to Ehukai Beach, or what you frequently hear called the Banzai Pipeline. In the wintertime when the waves are stronger, they’re really intense on Ehukai because they come in and break over a coral reef that is just a few feet below the surface.”

Kyle’s mouth had closed. He leaned forward, soaking in the beauty before him with a smile of absolute delight and peace on his face. And because he was happy, I felt happy as well. As I was about to begin reciting some more facts about the island, Kyle interrupted and said, “Babe, gotta pee, then let’s go out and walk while we’ve still got sunlight. We’re probably gonna fall asleep early because of the time change, so I want to get out and see a little before it gets dark.”

“No problem, babe. No problem.”

While Kyle peed, I changed into shorts and a loose-fitting T-shirt.

Kyle came back into the room just as I was finishing. “I know why you wear that one, but I still think you look great in a tight-fitting T-shirt that shows off your pecs—not to mention those incredible nipples of yours.”

Giving the man a coy look, I lifted my shirt and rubbed one of my nipples. “These nipples?”

“Oh, yeah, that would be one of them.”

Kyle started to move toward what was always a beacon for him, but I held up a hand and said, “Back! Back! Later. That’s your reward for later.”

“Foiled again!”

“Change clothes and let’s get outside.”

“Okay.” He mock sulked.

The afternoon of our arrival was beautiful. It looked like there had been some rain earlier in the day because there were big puddles everywhere, but none was falling or even threatening to fall from the sky, so we didn’t care.

Kyle was clearly excited. Usually when we went out walking or running, we moved at the same pace, even though Kyle had longer legs. That day, however, Kyle was so excited that he kept bouncing ahead of me, forcing me to either call him back or speed up to catch up with him. After two hours of walking, I was hoping that we had burned off enough of Kyle’s excess energy that we could stop for a while.

WE RETURNED to the hotel and went into the lobby bar, which had absolutely incredible views of the beach. Kyle had never seen a bar that had tiers that gradually stepped down to the beach level—and then opened directly onto the beach. Like at the airport earlier, there were, in effect, no walls on that side of the bar.

Even though the sun was still up and it was relatively early, the bar was very busy. It finally hit Kyle—we weren’t the only two people on the island who had just flown in and had not reset their body clocks yet. Most likely many of the people in the bar that late afternoon were also on something other than Hawaiian time.

The only other time Kyle had ever dealt with time change was when he had moved to Massachusetts for medical school, and that had happened slowly and gradually as he took the bus from Oklahoma to Massachusetts. “So how long does it take to adjust to the difference in time? Do people ever adjust?”

“Sure, you’ll adjust. Coming from east to west is easier. With six hours’ time change, we’ll fall over pretty early tonight and wake up really