Remi

I was in for a surprise.

We arrived for our scheduled horseback ride on the Caribbean beach and while I should have been excited, part of me didn’t want to go. Yes, the views would be memorable, but I was distracted by the “cares of the world,” as the church puts it. We had recently purchased a property that would challenge us financially, the bills from this trip were plentiful and waiting for me at the check-out desk, and, as always, I missed my kids (who I miss even when I’m not traveling). Climbing onto my horse, I realized I was carrying as much of a load as he was. Then it happened. I met Remi.

He was a lanky, black Frenchman, born and raised on a nearby island. Dressed in all black, including his sunhat, his teeth were as white as the breaking waves whenever he smiled, which was pretty much all the time. He spoke throughout the ride, describing his life in abundant detail. “I have the perfect life,” he professed. “I once had a job than made me want to stay in bed. Now I jump out of bed to do what I do. My boss sees me like an airport bottle of water. Very valuable.” My wife and smiled at the imagery. It reminded me of a time when I was a boss and saw people that way.

My load lightened.

He went on to describe his life. “I live right over there,” he said pointing to a valley on the island across the way. “I live with my wife and two sons who we raise right. We can see the ocean and mountains from our home. What more could someone want?” Indeed, I thought. I couldn’t see his house but imagine it was a humble dwelling that was more than a mansion to him.

My load continued to lighten.

Then he described his childhood and the mother he loved. “Every birthday, I buy her a present. I wrap it and give it to her. I look at her and thank her for all the nice things she’s done for me.” The simplicity and the authenticity were priceless. I doubt they had much but were enormously wealthy.

Then he did something that was surprising. He put his head down near his saddle and hoisted his long legs and bare feet into the air. It made him look like the court jester entertaining the king and queen. “You should try it,” he said looking back at me with a grin. I couldn’t have done it, even if I wanted to, which I did.

I follow someone who promised to set the captives free. I felt anything but free as I began the ride, but witnessing this soul that was as free as any I’ve known invited me to lighten my load, to release all the things I was carrying. He was as unburdened as his legs in the Caribbean breeze, as grateful as a child, and as peaceful (and joyful) as a monk.

I wanted to be like Remi.

Climbing off the horse, I couldn’t remember one vista on the ride because all I could see, all I needed to see, was riding right in front of me.