The other day I took a quick trip down to the sea and, after we carefully set down our car keys wrapped in a towel next to the ironshore, I went snorkelling in the warm waters of the Caribbean.
I’m really lucky to live in a place where I can slip out of my sandals, and dip my toes in the ocean at a moments notice; that I can slide into the sea and convene with nature whenever I need or want to; that I can escape into another world that I know is not my own but that welcomes me for an hour or two.
Afterwards, laughing and dripping salt water onto the tarmac we noticed the extent of the welts. Jellyfish. So tiny that at first we thought they were pieces of plastic. Electrifying shocks that told you otherwise. No way home except to swim back through it. The biggest sting is on my knee — something larger its microscopic jelly-cousins swept by me as we swam. More painful than a nettle, rivalling the cut on my toe.
I know I’ll never look back upon this tiny little adventure with anything less than joy. The beauty outweighed the pain, and a jellyfish doesn’t sting you deliberately.
This year I’m focusing on gratitude. Early last month I wrote that down on a piece of paper. Now I’m declaring my intentions to the world as well as myself.
We tend to ask the universe for a lot when we make New Year resolutions. Make me thinner. Make me want to eat better. Make me stronger. Make me faster. Make me see the error of my ways. Make me better. Make my book better. Please, above all else, make me meaningful.
This year I want to focus on being thankful for what I have and not determined to always get what I want. I know that the universe has been good to me. I know that I am lucky. And I know the value of cherishing what I have right now. I’m incredibly blessed to be living in the Caribbean right now, as I am.
So here I am learning to think about things a different way. Figuring out how to take the good with the bad, the jellyfish stings with the beautiful, and know that I am thankful.