The dancing girl, her sister, her brother, her father and I will be home tomorrow. As usual I’m experiencing mixed feelings about the end of our lovely little holiday, but for the most part I’m wishing the trip would never end.
It is truly lovely to forget the world. To live in a reality that skims over the top of the real world. In this reality there are no responsibilities and no worries. Nowhere to go, no deadlines to meet, not really.The museum wouldn’t have missed us. The beach front wouldn’t have missed our morning stroll.
I will miss this ocean and yet it is the very act of missing it that is needed in order to guide me through life on a more aligned path. The loving, the missing: they are clues as to my greatest loves. They whisper softly, ‘Brooke, it is here you are most at home. Among the trees where there is water, where there is peace. Where there is peace.
Ah, yes. I’m glad for the leaving as much as I am for the staying.
The magical river of life has flowed me this way.
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