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 ...

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 ...

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...

I leave next week for (almost, but not quite) a week near the sea, in the sun. I'll be staying at the idyllic Rancho Sak Ol , in Puerto Morelos (thanks for the recommendation of the town Koo). It's a small fishing village a half hour south of Cancun. What it's not is an all-inclusive pit of suburban whining and entitled excess which I have no interest in going to. I need this time away to regroup and recharge. I plan to read, play with the dog (who is purported to own the place), eat, sleep, and most of all enjoy my time with the ocean that I miss so very much. In many ways this place reminds me (and already smells like) my childhood weekends in Juhu. The weather there (to turn those of you who are in North America green with envy) is a calm 26C as I write this in chilly Toronto.

I've seen my fair share of them, and tonight some more. On the train downtown, I saw a man bully his own child. Sick... This lovely boy, not yet 6, got on with his mum and this man. He was playing with his trains, and like most kids do, entertained himself. The man kept threatening the mother that she should have left the kid with her parents, that if the kid didn't behave the night was off and they were going home, that he was misbehaving, that the kid was the reason their relationship wasn't going to work. The child sat between them through all of this, slowly shrinking, getting still, wanting to be invisible. The mother kept fawning over the weasly excuse of a man. He did interrupt his rant to call a friend when the train surfaced briefly to tell him he was "out with his girl" and that he'd bet 40 on three games. And then he started picking on the child. We all sat still, involved yet not. I'm angry, at the man, but even more at myself. I glared a...

"grant me the serenity to accept what I cannot change, the courage to change what I can, and the wisdom to know the difference..." I'd heard this many times before, but I learned the meaning of it last night.