I’m writing this week’s piece stretched out relaxing in my hammock. Protests, no maxis on the road, arrests, killing, shootings, bacchanal in Parliament, confusion left, right and centre. But right now right here in my hammock, I choose to just chill, relax and reflect. So let’s go....
There are some things in Trinidad and Tobago that money cyah buy, technology cyah replace, and modern life cyah improve on. One of dem things is ah good old-fashioned hammock.
I telling yuh, there is no therapy, no spa treatment, no meditation app, no fancy relaxation technique that could beat stretching out in a hammock on ah morning or hot afternoon with ah nice breeze passing through.
The hammock is more than cloth and rope. It is more than household furniture. It is part of who we are. In some communities, is we identity.
Like Trinidad and Tobago itself, de hammock has evolved through generations.
Some of us remember de old days when hammocks weren’t bought in fancy stores or displayed in glossy catalogues. People made dem. Resourceful people. Creative people. Trini people.
Old potato bags, flour bags and feed bags were carefully sewn together by hand. Nothing wasted. Everything had ah purpose. What some people considered garbage became comfort. Strong hands and practical minds transformed rough material into something that could hold ah grown man, ah sleeping child or ah grandmother taking ah Sunday afternoon rest. Especially when the ‘ritis’ step in.
As time passed, de hammock evolved too.
The simple feed-bag hammock gave way to beautifully woven creations. Colourful knitted hammocks. Intricate lacework designs. Handcrafted masterpieces that looked more like works of art than furniture. Today some hammocks resemble tapestries, with vibrant patterns and craftsmanship that tell stories all by themselves.
Yet whether it was stitched together from old feed bags or woven into an elegant piece of art, de purpose remained de same.
Peace, rest and reflection.
From de days of our Amerindian ancestors who first introduced de hammock to these islands, through de generations of Africans, East Indians, Chinese, Europeans and all de peoples who helped build this nation, de hammock remained a trusted companion.
It survived colonial times.
It survived modernisation.
It survived de arrival of recliners, sectional couches and all kinds of imported furniture.
Because de hammock was never just furniture.
It was culture.
In fact, long time when people was building their house, one of de important considerations wasn’t only where de kitchen going or how much bedrooms yuh wanted.
One of de first things yuh looking for was where yuh could hang yuh hammock.
You needed two strong points. Solid. Dependable. Able to carry de load.
Some people built galleries specifically with hammock space in mind.
Because every home needed one.
Not because it looked nice, but because it served ah purpose.
The hammock was de original thinking chair.
It was where yuh went when yuh wanted to clear yuh head.
Where yuh went after ah hard day’s work in de cane fields, de factory, de oilfield, de public service or de market.
Plenty decisions get made in hammocks.
Plenty business ideas start in hammocks.
Plenty family problems get solved in hammocks.
Plenty prayers get prayed in hammocks.
Plenty children get rocked to sleep while granny was nearby shelling peas, cleaning rice or telling old stories from long ago. It was de place where old men would retreat to sober off after having a few with the men in the village.
The hammock became ah place of reflection.
A place of wisdom.
A place of peace.
These days we living in ah society that always rushing. Everybody busy.
Everybody chasing deadlines. Everybody answering messages. Everybody stressed.
Yet somehow, de hammock still teaching de same lesson it taught generations ago.
Slow down.
Breathe.
Think.
Reflect.
Rest.
Not every problem requires running harder.
Not every answer comes through noise.
Sometimes de answer comes while yuh lying quietly, swinging gently, watching de branches dance in de breeze. Or a humming bird balance over a hibiscus flower.
Sometimes de intuition comes.
Sometimes de creativity returns.
Sometimes God speaks.
Sometimes yuh simply fall asleep.
Nothing wrong with that either.
So untie de hammock nah.
Whether it is de old feed-bag hammock yuh grandfather used, or ah beautiful woven tapestry hanging proudly in yuh gallery today, de invitation remains de same.
Find ah shady tree.
Find ah cool breeze.
Put down de phone.
Forget de stress.
Stretch out.
Rock gently.
Always remember that some of life’s greatest blessings arrive when we finally stop moving long enough to receive them.
Untie de hammock.
Your soul might just thank you for it.
