Woke up, opened the lanai doors, looked out at the ultramarine glitter of the sea, everything sunlight-drenched and jewelled, and offered silent gratitude for what I have received: the life I’ve been waiting for.
I nurture gratitude. When I express gratitude for what I have in my life, regardless of all the crap I had to go through to get here, indeed, because of all that crap, I learn to not take things for granted.
My attitude is gratitude.
After morning ablutions, I stretch, do yoga, some tai chi chuan, and finish with meditation. Then a cup o’ chai and toast with lashings of unsalted butter. I take it on the lanai, as with all my meals. I finish breakfast gazing out at the ocean, then pick up the delicious book I started last night.
But I don’t read for long, just a few pages really, for the superb writing has ideas zipping and buzzing in my head, demanding to be released. So I sit at my little table by the window and write and write.
Lunch. A quickly seared salmon fillet on a bed of rice, smeared with soy sauce and sambal and sprinkled with shallots and cilantro. I eat with chopsticks, rarely using a fork and knife these days, once again outside and gazing now at the midday ocean. Same blue. But different.
Late afternoon, I don my bikini, grab my boogie board and head to the ocean. My daily baptism. It’s uncrowded. I paddle out and leave the board floating – I swim freestyle and backstroke in my ocean lap pool – then collect my board and paddle to shore.
The sun, mild now, feels good on my face and body, and my thought speech is ‘thank you, thank you, thank you’ as its warm soft rays dry me with gentle love.
Flip flops dangling from my fingers, I walk barefeet to The Modern and get wet again under the outdoor shower, rinsing off the salt and stiffness out of my blonding hair. Then I quietly settle into one of their teak loungers, letting the sun dry me again. I’m a hog for its yellow love.
Two local brahs, literally, Jeremy and Jason tune up at the pool bar, then begin their first set for the evening. They sing Craig David’s ‘Seven Days’ and the tune cloudswings me into a calm reverie. There’s peace and gratitude, and within those a sense of incredulity – that euphoric inability, almost, of fully believing my bliss as I’m experiencing it.
I don’t quite know how it unfolded – I did not discern a clear design although I had my suspicions – but it seems that being here at this time and in this place has permanently released me from the burden of grieving.
So, how lucky am I!
This dream was the life I’ve been waiting for.
“Met this girl on Monday,
Took her for a drink on Tuesday,
We were making love by Wednesday,
And on Thursday and Friday and Saturday,
We chilled on Sunday.”
Craig David reminds me of Fiji boys – damn that boy is fly!
It’s a very clever clip, too.