Saturday, March 25, 2017

At the Still Point, There the Dance is !

Day 7 in Cayo Coco, and the sea inspires snippets of  wonderful memory, and to an even more pleasant extent, the inspiration to record it with pen in my journal. Sea, sand, strong espresso with steamed milk, a Cuban cigar! They all add to the creative life experience. This has been an memory that I will not forget for a long time, but I record with pen in paper so I have for posterity.
We are "clapped in" as per usual custom here for us early diners at breakfast. My fruit and cheese is followed by a long serine walk in which Mary and I collect seashells for Aubrey  and memories for our internal visual photo memory album.
Today urban sprawl has invaded our little cave of serenity on the beach, yet we find some humor as we get some bikini clad "asses" in our faces as Mothers tend to their babies oblivious to us, and our personnel, treasured space. European dialects surround us in Dolby sound. Such is life among the blessed vacationers. It is what it is!

Today I am mentally writing a sitcom in which the story line revolves around incarcerating  prisoners in an all-inclusive resort rather than a traditional prison. In my story there is NO punishment, just positive rehabilitation that includes Yoga,, meditation, cooperative sports and lots of thinking. Prisoners can eat and drink as much as they want or need within the confines of the resort  and the "Canteen" hours of operation. There is no curfew or bed time or last call....lots to be learned for these convicts. Stay tuned as I will attempt to craft out this little bit of silliness before I turn 60, and offer to Netflix the pilot that would hopefully star Neil Crone as the "resident prison/resort veteran go to guy" as he, in my mindful pilot, has been in the "All-inclusive system" the longest.

The Beach life here is as predictable as the "Clapping in": The  ceremonies for meals performed by resort staff to welcome us early birds to dine. Beach "stage right" is Cabana land where the eleven (yes I counted them) cabanas are home to the snow birds (usually from Quebec) who rise and claim their spots prior to 5 am. Bless their Fleur de lis souls.

Beach "stage left finds us pure beach folks, with our cave dwelling mates (me) who choose the cozy confines of lush underbrush to do our meditating. This morning, as many others here are full out "Club Nino" : Nino: From Old Portuguese nio and Latin nidus meaning "Nest". I named it as mothers arrive all day with strollers, carry cases, bags, food, and babies to set up their little "Nests". Club Nino sticks for my duration here, I like the name.

Afternoons differ,  are in many ways the polar opposite to the Club Nino mornings, Afternoons are lull after the storm, The quiet that arrives after the cyclones have  left.  It is Montecristo Puritto time! Then Siesta!

Repeat daily




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