The paradise that you dream about: lux hotels and resorts with spa zones, gourmet dining, and viciously marketed “must-see” spots. All under the promise of slowing down your busy world, just for a week, because that’s all the time your body and soul needs, right? One week. Once a year. All for the privileged or for those who are lured into debt or for those that save, save, and save or for those that embrace wanderlust. All at a cost. No, not the minimizing of your bank account. But the destruction that your footprints leave on the islands and the lived realities of its people. I crave an island lyfe, a different kind though. One that is filled with conversations about culture with authentic people, warm nature, rustling cool winds, and the ever-so-welcome rainstorms. Sometimes, the concrete of Southern California doesn’t cut it but leaving it for an equally monetary-filled paradise is just as saddening.