My beautiful sister, as you know from previous posts, is involved with an ashram out in Crestone, Colorado. This year, they had their semi-annual meeting in the Palm Beach area of Flahridah and I was invited to attend. Having a four-day weekend, I, of course, said yes!
It was wonderful. Great energy the evening preceding the Fire Ceremony. I stayed at a friend of my sisters home in Palm Beach, Fl. Thems of you who have heard/seen evidence of Palm Beach will be cheered to read that all the legends, pictures, images of Palm Beach fall sadly shy of reality. OMG! PB makes Beverly Hills and the Hamptons look like Section 8 housing.
Years ago, when Himself and I drove down 41 through Naples, we thought we had seen it all. Not so. The North end of Palm Beach, where I stayed, is the most understated, secluded, quiet piece of real estate I've ever encountered. Every property is just exquisite.
This morning I lugged my tea two blocks over to watch the sun rise over the perfectly blue Atlantic . . . . I think it's in the covenants that the ocean be always BLUE . . . and thought to myself: Ya know? It's location, location, location. These people don't have anything that I don't have. Oh, sure . . . they have beachfront views with private beach access, gates in front of their drives, private drives for deliveries/servants, select seating at the bestest eateries around town, etc. But, read on . . .
T'was eyeopening, really. I realized that, with all this 'stuff', they were still experiencing the same things that I experience: day to day angst, day to day joy, day to day disappointments, et al. The only thing separating me from 'them' was "STUFF" which I, happily, don't have to deal with. And then, I hit upon this realization:
I bet my last shoe that I had something they hadn't. Something money couldn't buy. Something not tradable on some exchange or other. Nope. Could be wrong here, but I'd bet that for all their material wealth, they were the poorer but for one thing.
A knowledge of where they are in this Cosmic Play. AND: I'm betting my other shoe that they lack the MOST IMPORTANT KEY TO THIS LIFE:
Something Esther and Jerry Hicks bellow at length:
"Life is supposed to be Fun!"
These "things" that they have surrounded themselves with are nothing but 'fullers' for wanting souls. "If I have more things, I'll be happier . . . . " The hole within, the yearing for fulfillment, is where this opulance comes from whence. In some ways, it's an addiction, I suppose. You get some: it's nice. But you still feel unfullfilled. Let's get a little more . . . Nice, but still, no cigar. Let's get a bit more . . . etc. But the internal "Craving" has never been addressed.
As I drove/walked up and down Old County Road/ Ocean Blvd in Palm Beach, I was awe-struck at the opulance. I told Himself that it reminded me of our trip up to Newport, RI. The archetecture was a bit different, but the scheme of things was the same. Quiet, overstated Severity. Certainly not understated, and certainly not shy. Nope. Opulence. Sheer, Opulence. On the Lake Worth side of the island: boats. Not your daily, mail-run skiff's mind you. Nope. Whole acres APIECE of Marine Acreage. I dunno. What? I don't think I saw anything remotely of the 90 foot range. These crafts were mansions with rudders. The saloons on the sterns of these dingies were a full twenty feet across! One would have to begin his return journey to the bar ten minutes before finishing his prior draft just to be assured of anti-dehydration.
Not moored up to any old marina, you understand. Why, can't be bother in dragging out the Bentley to drive to the Marina to set out the ship. 'Have yer own pier in the back, Jack. Easier to have the staff swab the decks, wouldn't you say?' No. t'is better to be just spittin' distance from the kitchen, so as to saunter down with the vittals and beer and take off for a day of . . . . . well, as Kenneth Grahame would say . . . . "Messing. Simply Messing about in boats."
It's a wonderful life, I suppose. Charmed, in some aspects. Must come with alot of minus's though.
I was glad to visit, see, experience, and feel another plane of this world. That's what travel is all about, No? In the meantime, I've got my knitting, my Diet Pepsi and my Journal to keep me happy at the public beach on the West Coast of Flahridah . . . in an undisclosed area . . . . where clothing is optional . . . . AND: you don't have to look your best . . . and you don't have worry about whether the vittals and beer have been delivered to the saloon . . . . Beer imported, Vittals Boar's Head.
The Quick Trip at Terra Verde is my Mise en Place. Great jerky, ice-cold Pepsi and a clean Potty. I'm a rich man . . .