my romantic tryst with cancer

What a wonderful end to my stay... I got back a little while ago. I feel like the trip has come to a natural close after an eventful (for myself) last few days. The radio in the taxi back from town was playing "when I need love, I hold out my hands and I touch..." Thank you for being there these past days. We (a small group of 4, the driver and our really great guide) left early early this morning for the Sian Ka'an reserve. A two hour drive later we found that the naturalist who was supposed to lead our kayaking tour through the mangroves hadn't shown, nor had our kayaks... But it didn't matter one bit. This area is a little patch of paradise. So we drove on another two hours, got on a little boat just for the 5 of us and spent most of the day on open water- sea turtles, flamingos, star fish, diving into the white-sanded blue. The dolphins gave us a miss, but so did the crocodiles. It didn't matter. The sea was something else. The grounding, ironically o

I walked down to the water to say goodnight to the ocean. I have to be up early for my kayaking trip... ... and there he was, my eternal companion, Orion- right in front of me, circled by clouds as if to show only his bright figure, always present, steadfast... I'm not alone. A line in the book I'm reading quotes Dante speaking of God... "The love that moves the sun and the stars"...

(No pun intended in the title of this post) Today has been somewhat of a watershed. I know why I came here... I realised it while half crying, making patterns in the sand while the sea licked my toes. I'm a child again. This is where I went to escape. The sea was my friend. It came up to me when I walked to it, it comforted me, it made me feel power and servitude, it played with me when I was most alone, it was always there. It hid mysteries, it was never simple, it loved me unconditionally, it had taste, it had temper, it was an enigma... It's disconcerting, because I've shed all my armour and defences that I've developed to cope over these past decades when I sat beside it today. I'm naked, bare, alive... That's why I'm scared, but it's also a chance to renew, and remember. If a bird the size of my palm can make sense of it all as it feeds on the same shore that I sit on, why can't I? David pointed out to me earlier today- we all came from

I just stood out in the warm sea for I don't know how long. And meditated, emanating the primal sound of the breath, my chest gently vibrating, half expecting a whale to answer me. The sandy sea bed felt firmer than the dry ground. I feel like a child again. This is the unforgiving sea, that nurtured me, and now in this phase of uncertainty, it's ironically the bedrock of my being. Perhaps this is why I came here, perhaps this is what I was meant to know. Perhaps this is why it is time for me to return. Perhaps it was always written this way...