February, the shortest month of the year that tends to feel like the longest. I don't
know about you, but it feels like I just had 5 Mondays in a row this past week. Maybe it's the return from a NYC trip with Elsa and Hugh for their winter long weekend, along with two quick happy stops to see family and friends. The time travel/time warp does tend to confuse things and it's harder to "bounce back," as they say, as I simmer in mid-life realities. But on the whole, my heart is refreshed and my confidence boosted as I return to The Rock with a stronger knowing that Dave and I have done something right with our move to a tropical island. Granted, when I come up north it is done with a "hit the ground running" kind of pace as I manage doctors' appointments, haircuts, and Target runs- with a nourishing quick drink or an intimate dinner with loved ones, all before I collect my babes in Wallingford. But, so far, it seems to work even when I miss items on my to-do list and fail to see friends that I didn't call, but had hoped to see.
When I land at Cyril E. King airport wearing my sweats and carrying my winter coat, I inhale the salty breeze mixed with engine fuel and walk down the rickety metal stairs to the tarmac. My skin again dewey and my heart again soft with the sunshine. February in St. Thomas is nothing like February in the Northeast. Witnessing the slog of managing and maneuvering the cold gray days, I truly felt for everyone's brittle bodies and attitudes. Hugh talked about his winter slump and his lack of inspiration, Elsa had just recovered from a week long virus (yes there are other sicknesses besides Covid), and friends were dreaming up plans of escape as they managed their colds and bursting pipes. I wanted to pack everyone in my suitcase and bring them home with me. Alas, it was just me on a Tuesday afternoon walking from the baggage claim to collect my Jeep from the overnight parking along with my rolly suitcase and our 50lb. duffel bag filled with everything from brazil nuts to bathmats. And then home to my crew after a week away.
It was a challenge in the midst of visitors and beautiful birthday celebrations, travel (and preparing to travel) to sit. My sitting was fragmented, priority went to meditation and yoga, based upon a schedule that has slowly been filling up- and I am reminded of a year ago when I didn't really have anywhere to go and was struggling with not having much "to do." So, here I am, a month after my January post, trying to kindly meet myself- a bit exhausted and a lot refreshed- angling on what it is I want to share in this tardy post...
The thought came to me when I was sitting with friends after my yoga class. We were gathered outside Lalicka's (a delicious smoothy place right near the yoga studio) looking at the yachts in Yacht Haven and right there in front of us was one called Just Enough. You know me, I love a pun. Here we are in the flashy part of St. Thomas with mega-yachts and crewed sailboats and these words were the message for me to sit with and share. (Clearly the owner of this not quite mega-yacht, but a crewed yacht just the same, had his/her own idea of what having just enough looked like.)
What is your Just Enough? Is just enough an attitude with gratitude? Is is surviving with a smile? Is it security in love, health, money and career? Is it being able to lie down at the end of a long day and find sleep with ease? Is it an enjoyed family meal with engaged conversation? Is it a hot bath on a snowy day or the shade of the sea grapes on a hot, windless beach? Is it being able to sit with yourself, the frenetic and the calm, the accomplishments and the failures, the courage and the cowardice, the joy and the sorrow- urging us to celebrate the power of our choices and to trust our paths? However you want to break it down, just enough might look different on any given day.
For today, just enough was embracing the fact that I had a quiet Saturday morning with the house to myself to watch the kingbird play in the wind above our pool as I sat down to write and collect my thoughts. For me always, just enough is not being scared of the other shoe to drop; that all that I have could disappear; that I could know a deeper rock bottom; that I'm not doing it right- and instead choosing to be in the abundance of now- willing, open, and grateful.
With light & love,
St. Sunshine
ps- As always, I'd love to hear from you and what your just enough looks like... and what would you name your yacht?
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