Monday, January 25, 2010

heart. beat.

There's a tiny starfish drifting in the water swirling past my feet. I am standing in the front yard of my house in Chuburna, looking at the vast ocean, the unending horizon. The delicious blue sky melts to lilac where it meets the water, and right there where they join is a band of dark blue. How far can that be from my front yard to where the water turns to cobalt? And how can that same water, rushing toward me from the endless horizon, become such a delicious, sunwashed green? Verde is the Spanish word for green, and it sounds just right for this color. Verde. Verdant. Divine.

The starfish has ridden the waves from the deep, its tiny spark of life adrift somewhere in the ether. Next to the starfish, my toes are buried deep in the sand. I stand here in the light surf, feeling the waves washing over my feet. Each incoming shuuuush feels like a breath, and the outgoing waves make a sound like an exhalation. I also breathe in, and exhale, standing here in the middle of my dream, rooted to this spot, my feet fully buried now in the sand. I can't even feel my heart beating. I feel part of these gentle waves, of the sun overhead, of the sand washing around my feet.

I flew into Merida after dark Wednesday. The cabin lights were out and I watched Yucatan appear out of the night sky as we approached land. Twinkling lights strung out along the coast glowed in welcome, and it felt like coming home after a long absence.

I noticed for the first time in weeks that my heart was beating slowly. North of the border, I am plagued with a skipping, racing heart beat, a beat that has been examined and tested and assessed over and over. It is nothing, this skippy beat, nothing but stress and too much coffee. Destress, the doctors say. Avoid caffeine. But my life is nothing but stress. Stress and exhaustion and caffeine to keep going, to push beyond my limits, to endure; thus the beat, as if my heart's trying to escape, to lead the way out.

But here, in this place, on the coast of a country not my own, I feel at peace. I can take a deep breath and feel it all the way into my belly. My heart beats like a metronome, a slow and steady tick tick tick.

Standing in the surf in my front yard, my feet rooted deep in the sand, the waves are rushing around me and the wind picks up. There are electric flashes of white light in the sky and I make out tiny birds rushing in from the north. There are hundreds of birds, white ones, with flecks of black, and they're making little chirring sounds, soaring, swooping, and diving.

Pelicans have come, frigates are soaring overhead, and I am laughing out loud with the joy of it all. This ocean, this beach, the water, the birds, this house, this life, this place I call home. I can't help but laugh while my heart beats with the rhythm of the waves. I can hardly believe it, but this is my life now. I thought I was stuck but somehow, magically, this is my home, will be my permanent home by November. And on this magnificent day, I am here, standing in the waves in the front yard of my house. The tropical sun warms my head, and life feels fine, very, very fine.

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Blogger brian said...

Beautiful! You describe it so well! We arrive at our place in Chuburna next week. I hope we run in to you on the beach.

Brian and Tracey

January 25, 2010 6:40 PM  
Blogger Blog O. Food said...

No one, NO ONE, is more deserving than you, Belle. I rejoice with you.


January 25, 2010 7:29 PM  
Blogger David said...

I'm so glad you're there. May it slow your heartbeat and buoy you up for years to come.

January 25, 2010 9:08 PM  
Blogger Greg said...

Just reading this post has a similar effect on MY heartbeat. I'm so happy for you.

January 26, 2010 1:56 AM  
Blogger 2ericc said...

Hi Belle,
Nicely written! Mary and I recently spent 3 weeks in Merida, and now understand what all the buzz is about.

On stress, be alert that it doesn't wash across the Gulf to catch up with you. As a volunteer, I teach a class at a local minimum security prison each Saturday. I tell my guys that stress is worry about tomorrow; depression is regret for yesterday. Neither timeframe truly exists. Only now is real.

ps: I've never figured out how to subscribe to posts on blogspot! The way I typically find writing from your region is if it includes the word 'Merida' — as then it pops up via my google alert. I've you care to tip me off about how to subscribe, I'll be sure to stay tuned. I know enough to visit hammockman's site often.

January 26, 2010 5:33 AM  
Blogger Mic said...

What a delightful post!! Don't even know you but you've made me joyful...thanks :-)

So happy you arrived and soon will be permanent.

January 27, 2010 5:14 AM  
Blogger Chris said...

OH, I can just smell, feel and see Mexico reading that post!!!! How devine! Be in the moment.....

January 27, 2010 11:32 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Well Bigass sounds like you've read a lot of Danielle Steel, you just need to add the lusty fisherman striding through the waves towards you with his wet clothes clinging tightly to his body. The good news is it may help sell real estate.

January 27, 2010 8:03 PM  
Anonymous Michele said...

Congrats Miss Lynette- you and yours deserve a life respite and I am sure you will add beauty and light to your new community. Also - I believe you've "arrived" in the blog-o-sphere when you have your first icky comment/daresay I troll? So Anonymous - thanks for the compliment to one of my favorite bloggers/commenters/humans I don't actually know!

January 28, 2010 5:48 AM  
Blogger BigAssBelle said...

Brian, I hope you enjoy it. There's a norte ~ been for the last couple of days. Big wind, rough seas, but it will pass. I hope you get at least one day like this one. It was magic.

BOF, David, Greg ~ gracias. It was such a lovely day. Wish you could have seen it.

2Ericc ~ wise words for the folks you volunteer with. There's also a stress that comes from being stuck, trapped. Mexico makes me feel unstuck, not trapped ~ so grateful.

Mic, thanks for visiting. And Chris, that was it: in the moment. For the moment ;-)

Anonymous, I can always count on you to appear out of nowhere. Such a miserable, cramped soul you must have. You can't stand others feeling happy. I guess you've never been there. Oh, and my fisherman was behind me on the porch.

Michele ~ Thank you sweetie. It's always nice to see you here. As for Anonym-ass, he's been around here since I offended him on . . . I think it was abortion. I'm glad for people like you.

January 28, 2010 7:50 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hola Bigass, I am not surprised to hear your fisherman was behind you on the porch, nudge, nudge, say no more, Danielle Steele would be proud of you. As for me being a cramped unhappy soul I doubt that, as far as I know I am the happiest soul around. & Michelle I doubt you could offend me on abortion, everyone in this life ought to have a right to choose, the only offense I take is to my intelligence.

January 29, 2010 11:08 AM  
Blogger Linda said...

Awwww...I'm so happy for you. This is what we work and drive ourselves nuts to achieve.

Toast those tootsies in the Mexican waters forever!

January 29, 2010 7:15 PM  
Anonymous Tater said...

Thank you for making my day, its always nice to hear about the happiness of loved ones. I hope it is contagious.

February 01, 2010 4:41 AM  
Blogger Nancy and Gary said...

Loved your post Lynette, it truly does express the feeling that runs through you when you are standing knee deep in that blue water. As for anonymous, well .... enough said.

February 01, 2010 10:53 PM  
Blogger Dusty said...

What a beautifully written descriptive Lynette!

As for the asshole would he know about Steele's writing? He must read her! He just outed himself, the stupid fuck.

February 02, 2010 7:55 AM  
Anonymous lynette said...

Linda, you must take a road trip and come visit.

Tater. You too. I hope that this is a good year for you, sweet man.

Nancy & Gary, isn't it glorious? I still can't believe it. Every morning I wake up and see that sky, feel the sun on my shoulders, even watching the storms roll in, I feel blessed.

Dusty ~ haha!! I'm not sure where I picked up Mr. Brave Anonymous. I think he might be this guy from Houston who I infuriated by suggesting in the end, his lack of a uterus should prevent his having the right to decide what happens in mine. Or yours. But whatev. Every time I read some comment-meant-to-be-irksome that's signed "anonymous" I just have to giggle. Brave, stalwart souls. Too funny. But hugs to you, sweetie. Keep fighting.

February 02, 2010 8:10 AM  
Anonymous L! said...

It seems you read that book "On Mexican Time," and are trying very hard to ape its style.

February 07, 2010 8:28 PM  
Anonymous Dallascracker said...

Who knew that your "happy place" was an actual location. Sounds wonderful. I am so glad that you are enjoying it. Reading this makes me look forward to finding my own happy place.

February 08, 2010 1:09 PM  
Blogger T.R. said...

Congratulations on your Oklahoma Blog Award nomination - Finalist for Best Writing!!!!! You deserve it!!

February 08, 2010 7:58 PM  
Blogger BigAssBelle said...

L! Sounds like one I need to read, thanks for the tip.

DallasC~My happy place is definitely real. Keep looking ~ it's out there.

T.R. ~ Honey, you need to stop that! I need to visit you, see where you're off to now. I thought of you when I was walking the streets of Merida.

February 09, 2010 10:43 AM  
Blogger more cowbell said...

Lynette, I could so feel this.

March 27, 2010 6:00 PM  

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