I’m writing this beachfront on a brisk sunday evening as the sun falls deeper beyond the horizon. I can hear the ocean crashing against itself like rich cymbals. Overhead the pelicans swirl and circle looking for an evening of food and fun. The taste of salt whispers against my tongue and fills my nose with a sense of joy and wonder I haven’t felt since New York. This is not my coast or my city or my world even but I enjoy it all the same. It feels me with joy, peace, and wonder.
My bestie reminded me that I need to take a moment to love myself every once in a while and I admit that she is right. I knew last night that the me moment was long overdue. Today all of that anger and futile rage has dissipated in a ball of wet sand sucked back into the ocean of my joy.
I’m a happy person–now, generally, and mostly when I write and I love and I live life this way. I have everything I want at my fingertips at this moment except for my kids. That is a big part of my joy too and I promised myself this morning that I will bring them here to sit under the same sun and hear the waves crash and the pelicans sing and the people laugh and play and be pleasant. They ought to know my joy so that they can see what I call happiness and, in time, find their own path there.
Some Thoughts:
- I was able to catch the second half of the Heat-Raptors game and watched a team give up on itself. That is terrible, but I can see so many of those Heat players with the hunger and urgency to come back and do this right next year. This year was never their year. It belongs to the fated match between the restocked and healthy Cavs and the ‘Golden Warriors’
- I need to go back to my CRT glasses because my eyes are the red of chiba with far less of the peaceful joy. Now where did I put those things…
- Fantasy novel is going to happen soon. It lives in the back of my mind but keeps creeping forward like summer weeds.
- The wordpress update is still terrible and I continue to have to cut and paste my entire post and reload to a new entry to post anything.