The last sugar packet from Hawaii. I wish I had more, but for some reason, I was being really picky about the design on the packets while I was there, and I only took home the ones I thought were good. Now I realize that probably all of them would seem good to me here, back at home. It's funny how that happens: in the moment your judgment clouds with the relativity of the things which surround you. I chose five sugar packets out of approximately ten, because those five seemed "better." Yet looking at the packets here, all ten of those in Hawaii were "better." And I experienced a similar thing when showing people some of my pictures. While in Hawaii, I didn't take many pictures, I just thought, "well, they won't be very interesting." In some way, even after a short time there, I'd become immune to the dramatic scenery. I think I even had the thought, "it's just the ocean" at one point. Yet as I look over the photos here, I want to smack myself for being so stupid. Why didn't I take more pictures?
Is there some message here? Something about the adaptability of human beings to adjust to surroundings? Or perhaps the importance of seeing new places to gain perspective? Or something simpler, like Take those pictures while you're there, because when you get back, you'll want them? Or maybe it's just that I was thoroughly in the moment while I was away, and my brain wasn't bothered by comparisons (Kauai vs. San Francisco: The Vista Showdown, The Five Benefits of Hawaiian Sugar Packets over their Mainland Counterparts, etc.). Perhaps it's because everything was just ideal the way it was, and my only thoughts were on snuggling and snorkling and sleeping and just being there.
