We had a fantastic week away..the weather couldn’t have been more accommodating (with sincere apologies to my friends up north who had apparently located Nemo while we were hanging out in the sun), the only required nod to time had to do with Andy’s scheduled tee times (and he shot an 80 the second time he went out! The first round would have been equally as impressive were it not for the beer after the front nine). I only listened to the music provided by the environment all around me – the leaves from palm trees as they tickled and teased each other in the wind, the ocean playing tag with the shore. Occasionally the riff of laughter extending from one end of the beach to the other. Oh yeah, there also was the occasional, “the drink you requested madam?” That’s fine – call me Madam (sorry I couldn’t resist).
Tuesday morning we spent with the dolphins. The pictures I took were awful (note to self, put on glasses before trying to focus), the pictures the conservation folks took were better (the ones below). Ironically, we hung out with a dolphin named Andy, who apparently took issue with someone else having his name who would not kiss him with a full pucker (he gave a full on Bronx cheer to my conquering hero). I was mesmerized by his eyes (the dolphin Andy, that is) – believe me, these brilliant mammals size us up in much the same way we assess those around us. They pick up vibes, tease, play coy and make their share of mischief. And don’t make the mistake of ticking them off. I also met three new baby dolphins who are first beginning to explore life away from their moms (dolphins nurse until they are almost three years old). Did I fall in love? You betcha.
I suppose this wouldn’t be a Mimi-post without a musing or two (what can I say? I muse a lot). There was one day when the beach was closed. The ocean, with presence of mind and purpose, felt the need to remind the shore that just as it brought it onto the land, it could take it away. And it did. The ferocity of the waves was so intense that the beach chairs, tables and umbrellas were washed out to sea, some returned in pieces and left as the detritus of the ocean’s pique. It was loud and magnificent, boastful and confident. I watched for hours, realizing that no two waves were the same, no two sounds exact replicas, no sea foam frothing in circles and eddies that were similar. If you looked with little sight, you might think it was just a relentless pounding and abatement. If you looked with your eyes wide open and your ears tuned to the right station, no two notes were alike.
And so it is with our days, our minutes, our seconds. Regardless of how many we have, no matter how they may seem at times to fold into each other with nothing easily identifiable to distinguish one from another – no two moments in time are the same. From this perspective, it’s almost impossible to imagine how rich life is – with possibilities, choices, magic. No two moments that are the same. What we choose to do – how we look upon our time – that is what it’s all about. I decided to accept a challenge posted while I was gone by davidkanigan.com at Lead.Learn.Live – to begin with three days of finding the goodness in others, and censoring the less kind thoughts I may have in a moment of impatience…ultimately extending this practice to a year (if I can do it). I’ll screw it up of course, though I have promised myself that when I do, I’ll get back on the board. The truth of the matter is, I don’t really think a lot of nasty stuff about people and there are very few for whom I reserve really unkind thoughts. I realize that I give them too much of my sacred time by according them much attention. With that as a backdrop, I think I can do this – and enjoy the waves as I ride them. It’s probably the closest I’ll ever come to surfing anyway.
And so the second best thing about vacation is absolutely coming home. Anticipating the delight of seeing my kids, having Sir Teddy share my chair as I write this and Archie asleep on my Ugg slipper, the laundry spinning in the dryer, and the glorious knowledge that on this day, I got to write to you. It’s good to be home. I could choose nothing better than this one moment.
Waiting for the Karma Truck 