I am blogging from a hammock, freshly bathed and slightly burned, watching the sun set. It’s my last night in Brazil.
Mostly, this trip was a welcome distraction. I let myself get carried away with caipirinhas, smoky eyes, and the perfect shoes. Capturing every picturesque moment on my fancy camera. Going with the flow with my Real World Rio roommates.
Losing my camera was a slap in the face: wake up! You’re only here a short time. Relax, meditate, Rio-valuate. Consider your life from the perspective of the southern hemisphere.
Buzios is a mellow beach town on the off-season, a good place to reflect.
Today, we stayed at our hilltop house with 360 water views on this glorious peninsula. We had the pool, warm sun, soft breezes, four iPads, and time. We all finally sunk into our respective quiet modes. I finished reading The Book Thief, a beautiful book that made me burst into tears at the end.
The tears have sprung into my eyes at odd moments where some tiny thing reminds me that no, that didn’t all happen to someone else. It happened to me. It seems far away but it shows up in my dreams. It shows up in Michelle Obama’s convention speech about struggling to reach your goals. And a Winston Churchill quote about never giving up on something you think about every day.
I can’t imagine giving up but it’s also true that I’m not quite ready for all the peeing on sticks. I have the sense that my body will time itself with my readiness, and, if not, I can always delay. I return mentally rested and physically needing to get back on the healthy train after all this eating out, full-on coffee, and several drinks a day. I haven’t even managed to take my prenatal vitamins.
I return ready to get back to work on Monday (crazy, I know). I return ready to date (but not the paramedic who seemed like a good prospect until he turned out to be really not), and I want to start really planning ahead: apartment, finances, career.
No, I don’t have to make New Year’s Resolutions in September. But I do believe I am due for a solo retreat. There’s been lots of chatting on this trip and I crave more silence. I am grateful to this crew, though, since I never would have made it here without them.
Tomorrow we’ll check out of this amazing house, do some last shopping and hit the road back to Rio. I am the only manual transmission driver. I love the wild driving, trying to discern clues from Portuguese signs, and breezing through, of all places, Brazil. A metaphor for life!