The East Cape //
The optimism I went to sleep with immediately vanishes from my body when I wake at 4:30am feeling as though my mouth has been lined with concrete and I can hardly swallow. I get out of bed, Mark following behind, and learn that my voice is nonexistent.
Mark, being the world’s greatest husband, gets right to work making me a cup of tea. In my barely awake state my mind begins racing with speculation over just how miserable this could get. And I’m saddened by the thought of wanting to go home, back to our spacious RV that is stored in the States and has such luxuries as running water, a bathroom, a shower, a kitchen, and most of all, a couch.
I realize that my mind is getting away from me and that I need to reign it in. A favorite quote by Seneca snaps me out of it.
“We suffer more often in imagination than in reality.”
The tea soothes my sore throat and before I know it I’m back asleep for several more hours.
Luckily I take the rest of the day in stride, allowing myself to rest and appreciate the comfort of our little haven rather than perceive it as a prison cell. So much of the quality of our lives can be distilled down to our perspective. I have everything I need and a husband that goes to great lengths to see that I’m taken care of. I couldn’t ask for much more.
After the harsh light of the day flushes from the sky I step outside and curl up in a chair for a little ocean theatre. All I have to do is look in the direction of the water to see a whale or two or three. But then something strange happens. Lighting and thunder…and…is that…water…falling from the sky? A light rain lures us back inside, to our little abode that turns out to be more comfortable than I gave it credit for. I go to bed grateful and mindful of the fact that I won’t be sick forever. It’s simply a low point that will inevitably make the next high that much sweeter.
I hope you will be feeling better very soon and I hope Mark does not get it! Take care Michele.
Love you
Thanks mom.