Play. We arrive in Copacabana and find that we need to take a boat to get to the Isla del Sol (Island of the Sun), a picturesque plot of land that’s carefully planted like a seed by a gardener in the middle of Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the world. The small motor boat was too heavily weighted in the back, so my two friends and I were directed to sit on the nose of the boat – the best seat in the house. The next 1 ½ hours were pure bliss, since we were gracefully gliding over one of the most beautiful lakes I had seen in my life. I felt like I was living in a picture frame, but as you round each bend, the painter chooses to make the scenery even more breathtaking. Pause.  The beauty around me seemed so confident and concrete that it felt like time did not even pass. It was like I was sitting on this boat with the motor off and watching as the world around me maneuvered itself in ways that were pleasing to the eye and soothing to the heart. Play.

With hotels that were actually cute huts playing dress-up in slightly fancier costumes, the Isla del Sol definitely lives up to its name. Extremely high altitude replaced lack of exercise as to why our sound effects rivaled those of the Big Bad Wolf as we climbed the stone steps toward the sun. We hiked to see a tiny remnant of the Inca legacy as the island was sun- bathing in the deep blue topaz lake. Slow-Mo: We then made our way to the highest point of the island to watch the sun say goodbye for the day, as it was playing catch with the snow-capped mountains creating a hammock of pastel pink and orange rays, where the clouds could take a nap.

And then there were the stars. It was getting chilly, and to head back to our hotel meant dodging llama and donkey poop in a night that was darker than dried prunes or burnt coal – but none of this seemed to matter.  We couldn’t help but crane our heads to the sky like we wanted to memorize every star in sight. To stay warm, I was wearing possibly every article of llama embellished clothing I owned all the way from fuzzy leg-warmers to mittens. Gazing at the sky felt like music that envelops you. When you hear good music, it doesn’t just come straight at your nose, but rather wraps around you like a warm blanket – almost like flames of a bonfire – you could feel it, hear it, breathe it and even smelt like it after the fact. The stars seemed to have this yearning to talk to you – to fly down, sit in your lap and cuddle up with your soul like hot tea. Freeze frame please!

This trip definitely reaffirmed the view that the earth is a beautiful place to live in. I feel like sometimes we wish life could be controlled like a tape recorder or like DVR – so we could take charge of it with a remote as we do with our television. We want to know what will happen and how we can prepare for it. We want to pause things that we love, turn the volume down when someone is bugging us, fast forward through things that we don’t enjoy, and change the channel when we don’t want to deal with something. Or, maybe this is just me.

I personally like to think that this seemingly lack of control we are blessed with is one that challenges us to truly appreciate the moments we love and learn from the ones that frustrate us. So, I guess its okay that we don’t always get to wield a remote control for the feature presentation that is our life…