I am sitting here, enjoying the solitude of having the entire building to myself. The frogs are serenading me, and I’m trying to decide what I want to blog about. I could talk about my new friend, Lucky.
Or I could tell you about the Reggae Road Show I went to last night.
Maybe you want to read about my afternoon at the beach by the Lone Star, and all the fish feeding activity as the sun was setting. I could tell you about the baby turtle I saw on the beach, as it struggled to make its way to the ocean.
I could write about any number of things. But tonight I want to write about me. About how happy I am. About how comfortable in my skin I am. About how I feel like I belong here. About opportunities being presented to me that are going to allow me to more or less live here. For years I talked about doing this and I have only one regret: that it took me so long to make this my reality. I regret letting fear hold me back for so long. I can see and feel the improvements in my health. My blood pressure is down, my weight is down, I’m eating better, I’m drinking less, I’m sleeping more. I smile all the time. And every day, something inevitably happens, an extra-special moment, that serves to remind me that I am truly in my happy place. Often, it’s a beautiful sunset:
Today though, I got to talk to a spear fisherman who was out looking for octopus. He was so pleasant and spent a few minutes chatting with Lucky and I. He showed us a couple that he had caught.
And tonight while I was making my dinner, I was startled by some loud booms. They continued for a few minutes so I grabbed my camera and ran up to the roof. I stood up there and watched a lovely display of fireworks.
Tomorrow I’ll tell you about the Reggae Road Show and our adventures getting home.