Something magical happened in Grenada ...
At times, I like to think of it as my "Disney moment." Other times, I like to think of that moment in more profound terms, attaching meaning to it that directly contradicts my pragmatic nature ... why? Because it gives me comfort to dream and hope and think there is something bigger and more powerful and deeper and more knowing than anything here on earth.
This is what happened: About a year ago, I was travelling alone. It
was my gift to me - 17 days, 9 of which would be spent in a place I had never visited before, to spend some time relaxing, reflecting, getting a tan, meditating, touring around and doing a bit of research for the book that I never seem to get any time to actually sit down and write. Well, actually, it was eight days, because the first 36 hours or so, were spent trying to get from St. Kitts to Grenada, via Antigua, Barbados and finally an unscheduled, overnight stop in Port of Spain Trinidad. Oh, but I think I told you about that already.
When I finally reached my hotel, I knew that I had chosen the right spot to spend my quality-time-with-me journey. Though a bit basic and "no frills" - my room had a little kitchenette, so that I had easy access to my first and last cup of coffee of the day, as well as a full size fridge for snacks, cold beverages and a small stove, if I was so inclined to prepare simple meals. But what thrilled me the most was the view from my room ... which was perched on a hill top, close to the main road, overlooking Grand Anse Beach, with a terrific view of the whole bay and St. George's beautiful harbour off in the distance to my right.
I simply needed to step through the sliding glass door to my little patio to be treated to the wonderful view. I made a ritual of sitting out on the patio every night to enjoy the starry nights, the lights in the distance as the sea just down the cliff from the hotel serenaded me with her constant sonata of waves gently crashing upon the beach and the rocks of the nearby cove. The night breeze was always scented by a mixture of sea and the oxegenated aroma of the many tropical flowering shrubs, trees and palms around the hotel. The best part of these evenings though was the time I spent star-gazing. Even with the lights of St. Georges, the starry nights were a feast for the eyes. In front of me every night, the Big Dipper, which is comprised of the s
even brightest stars of the constellation, Ursa Major, hung low in the sky. It seemed so close that if I reached out, I could touch it and bring it inside ... and maybe it would transform itself into a magic cooking pot where I could whip up a nice batch of pasta sauce! But, no - it stayed in the sky, disappeared every morning, only to re-materialize every night, bigger and brighter than the night before.
A new friend that I had made while journeying from St. Kitts to Grenada earlier that week reminded me that during mid-November, the Leonid meteor showers were usually in full show, and I had a good vantage point for some comet-watching from my hotel. When I had last seen him, he stressed that I should take some time to look at the sky so that I could make a wish upon one of the falling stars! So, it was a real stroke of good fortune when one night, as I sat staring at the Big Dipper, a huge tw
inkling piece of meteor flashed through the sky, complete with comet-tail. It made a perfect arc from the right side of my site-line, across the "ladel" of the Big Dipper, and finally disappeared behind a palm tree at the end of the side walk that stretched about 5 yards from my patio to the wall between the hotel property and the road below. It was followed by a few more, smaller meteors which sort of fizzled mid-air and did not, at least to my un-telescoped eyes, complete the arc with their leader.
I think I felt like an eight-year-old in that moment, and my excitement and awe at the spectacle left me transfixed. But ... true to any eight-year-old's nature, I did not forget to make a wish! Oh, no indeed ... in less time than it takes to breath a whispered sigh, I had made my wish. I had been practicing creative visualizations for some time, so I knew exactly what I was going to ask for. Still, I am a Capricorn, and true to the nature of that particular creature of the Zodiac, I have a very pragmatic, IMPATIENT streak and a strong drive towards needing concrete answers, even in my most whimsical moments. So, my wish came with a qualifier that went something like this: "if my wish is to be granted but is something that I must wait for, PLEASE send me a sign ... and then I will KNOW ... and I WILL wait." Then, I went to bed, perfectly content in a perfect moment, secure in the kno
wledge that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I felt like I had been treated to a very special secret event that God or the fates had orchestrated just for me. Life was good. The next day it got even better.
The following morning, after I made my first cup of coffee I went back out to the little patio to enjoy another perfect Grenada sunrise with the sea in the distance. I began to ponder the special treat that I had been witness to the night before, and I mused and marvelled at the fact that the meteor seemed to fall in such a perfect arc. I imagined that if the sky was a two-dimensional canvas and the palm tree in the yard was a figure on that canvas, the falling star would have, in fact landed at the base of the palm tree. I gradually shifted my gaze from the sky down to the lawn that led up to the tree in question ... and what should I happen to see? A huge starfish! In the middle of the lawn! Right where the falling star would have landed in my two-dimensional canvas!
Once I got over my shock and amazement, I went over to have a closer look. The starfish still smelled of the sea, and it was perfectly shaped - much like an eight-year-old would draw it. Very geometric and straight lines, no curly-cues. Just an almost-cartoon-like star. Now, I know that it w
as not there the night before, because I had been sitting out for hours and I would have noticed it. Somehow, it materialized after I saw the falling star. Aha! Instantly, I KNEW ... here was my sign! And I had my answer ... my wish was granted ... but I would have to wait ...
... And a year later, I still wait ...
And NO, I will NOT tell you what I wished for! That is not how it works in Disney movies. You will have to stay tuned for the sequel to get the answer to that question. When I do get my answer, I promise, you will be the first to know!
This is what happened: About a year ago, I was travelling alone. It
was my gift to me - 17 days, 9 of which would be spent in a place I had never visited before, to spend some time relaxing, reflecting, getting a tan, meditating, touring around and doing a bit of research for the book that I never seem to get any time to actually sit down and write. Well, actually, it was eight days, because the first 36 hours or so, were spent trying to get from St. Kitts to Grenada, via Antigua, Barbados and finally an unscheduled, overnight stop in Port of Spain Trinidad. Oh, but I think I told you about that already.When I finally reached my hotel, I knew that I had chosen the right spot to spend my quality-time-with-me journey. Though a bit basic and "no frills" - my room had a little kitchenette, so that I had easy access to my first and last cup of coffee of the day, as well as a full size fridge for snacks, cold beverages and a small stove, if I was so inclined to prepare simple meals. But what thrilled me the most was the view from my room ... which was perched on a hill top, close to the main road, overlooking Grand Anse Beach, with a terrific view of the whole bay and St. George's beautiful harbour off in the distance to my right.
I simply needed to step through the sliding glass door to my little patio to be treated to the wonderful view. I made a ritual of sitting out on the patio every night to enjoy the starry nights, the lights in the distance as the sea just down the cliff from the hotel serenaded me with her constant sonata of waves gently crashing upon the beach and the rocks of the nearby cove. The night breeze was always scented by a mixture of sea and the oxegenated aroma of the many tropical flowering shrubs, trees and palms around the hotel. The best part of these evenings though was the time I spent star-gazing. Even with the lights of St. Georges, the starry nights were a feast for the eyes. In front of me every night, the Big Dipper, which is comprised of the s
even brightest stars of the constellation, Ursa Major, hung low in the sky. It seemed so close that if I reached out, I could touch it and bring it inside ... and maybe it would transform itself into a magic cooking pot where I could whip up a nice batch of pasta sauce! But, no - it stayed in the sky, disappeared every morning, only to re-materialize every night, bigger and brighter than the night before.A new friend that I had made while journeying from St. Kitts to Grenada earlier that week reminded me that during mid-November, the Leonid meteor showers were usually in full show, and I had a good vantage point for some comet-watching from my hotel. When I had last seen him, he stressed that I should take some time to look at the sky so that I could make a wish upon one of the falling stars! So, it was a real stroke of good fortune when one night, as I sat staring at the Big Dipper, a huge tw
inkling piece of meteor flashed through the sky, complete with comet-tail. It made a perfect arc from the right side of my site-line, across the "ladel" of the Big Dipper, and finally disappeared behind a palm tree at the end of the side walk that stretched about 5 yards from my patio to the wall between the hotel property and the road below. It was followed by a few more, smaller meteors which sort of fizzled mid-air and did not, at least to my un-telescoped eyes, complete the arc with their leader.I think I felt like an eight-year-old in that moment, and my excitement and awe at the spectacle left me transfixed. But ... true to any eight-year-old's nature, I did not forget to make a wish! Oh, no indeed ... in less time than it takes to breath a whispered sigh, I had made my wish. I had been practicing creative visualizations for some time, so I knew exactly what I was going to ask for. Still, I am a Capricorn, and true to the nature of that particular creature of the Zodiac, I have a very pragmatic, IMPATIENT streak and a strong drive towards needing concrete answers, even in my most whimsical moments. So, my wish came with a qualifier that went something like this: "if my wish is to be granted but is something that I must wait for, PLEASE send me a sign ... and then I will KNOW ... and I WILL wait." Then, I went to bed, perfectly content in a perfect moment, secure in the kno
wledge that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I felt like I had been treated to a very special secret event that God or the fates had orchestrated just for me. Life was good. The next day it got even better.The following morning, after I made my first cup of coffee I went back out to the little patio to enjoy another perfect Grenada sunrise with the sea in the distance. I began to ponder the special treat that I had been witness to the night before, and I mused and marvelled at the fact that the meteor seemed to fall in such a perfect arc. I imagined that if the sky was a two-dimensional canvas and the palm tree in the yard was a figure on that canvas, the falling star would have, in fact landed at the base of the palm tree. I gradually shifted my gaze from the sky down to the lawn that led up to the tree in question ... and what should I happen to see? A huge starfish! In the middle of the lawn! Right where the falling star would have landed in my two-dimensional canvas!
Once I got over my shock and amazement, I went over to have a closer look. The starfish still smelled of the sea, and it was perfectly shaped - much like an eight-year-old would draw it. Very geometric and straight lines, no curly-cues. Just an almost-cartoon-like star. Now, I know that it w
as not there the night before, because I had been sitting out for hours and I would have noticed it. Somehow, it materialized after I saw the falling star. Aha! Instantly, I KNEW ... here was my sign! And I had my answer ... my wish was granted ... but I would have to wait ...... And a year later, I still wait ...
And NO, I will NOT tell you what I wished for! That is not how it works in Disney movies. You will have to stay tuned for the sequel to get the answer to that question. When I do get my answer, I promise, you will be the first to know!
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