Time. Time to think. Time to ponder.
Gazing out at the ocean is a good beginning. The endless rythyms of tides and waves lull me to sleep and greet me in the morning. Here in Vallarta, the Pacific has been working at my favourite beach. As I settle under a palapa in late morning, the only sound is the cannonfire boom of giant breakers. Parts of Los Muertos Beach have been excavated so that there are unexpected two foot drops rather than gradual slopes. I have seen rogue waves this week that snatched whole chairs, side-tables, sunglasses and flip-flops. The ocean's volume is as clear a warning signal as the red flags posted.
I am at Ritmos Cafe, formerly Looney Tunes and popularily known as the Green Chairs. A wandering soloist plays pan-pipe and acoustic guitar to greet the day. The music is oddly beautiful as it is punctuated by explosions of surf. I order an iced coffee just as the DJ softens up the hangover victims with something light and Latin. I do love Mexico. Throughout the day, as the crowd fills la playa and the afternoon heat seems to demand some decadence, the DJ will move from retro Donna Summer to a throbbing modern dance beat - all in the name of vacation fun and living in the moment.
Someone like me - self-employed and e-connected never seems to have enough time. Of course, I realize that it is a common complaint. I am not really complaining. I actually enjoy being busy, and like most men, put a lot of myself into my profession. On these rare getaways, I find myself with time, unscheduled and free for the taking of life's small pleasures. Rest, relaxation, good food, good books, observation and appreciation. I reconfirm how much I love my partner. I find that I can live with myself quite nicely.
