Sunday

It’s been one hell of a ride this past few weeks. I swore to myself I would never be too caught up in the fast lane and yet here I am working on a Sunday afternoon. As I sit on this balcony overlooking the Punta Fuego cove I realize that I am already well and deep into the fast lane. I sometimes feel like I am drowning in it. But there are these moments of enlightenment that make me realize that I am slowly sinking.

This fast paced life wherein you are working almost 80% of your life isn’t good. A friend of mine ym’ed me and said “hey wasup?” I couldn’t reply right away. I was busy. I felt bad that I was busy. My friend also said “that isn’t good for your health.” But I’m young. I’m stupid. I can take the tiny blows to my health now. I wonder how I’ll pay for it in the end though. It’s sad thought though. Am I missing out?

If there was one thing I appreciate most about Sunday’s would be the slow breakfasts I’d have. I usually eat my meals really fast because I need to be somewhere, have to do something, or just in a general hurry. On Sunday breakfasts, I can take it slow. Savor each bite as if it were my last and just generally appreciate the blessed life I am living now. In by no way am I saying that I don’t appreciate life, but rather a greater appreciation, a time that is alotted to the general thank you’s I am saying.

The sound of the toast cracking as I bite into it, the relative juices of the hotdog, and the mixed sweet and sour taste of the orange juice as I slowly bring each bite to my mouth was something like a symphony that was playing a light tune. Everyone knew their part, every instrument playing their respective notes. I found it beautiful.

As the sun rises along the coast line of punta fuego, the rays of light that entered the dining room to cast its warm glow on my food was sort of an awakening. It made me see my life in a new light. Another new day. Another new week.