Peter and I farewelled the year that was and welcomed 2016 in our customary fashion: a swim at our bay at dusk, followed by friendly banter on Clovelly Beach’s promenade with a handful of locals who equally chose to avoid the chaos and hype surrounding New Year’s Eve. Strolling home in our swimmers, a warm shower was followed by a simple, but no less delicious, seafood dinner by candlelight on our courtyard, accompanied by the obligatory bottle of Bollinger. Watching the Coogee fireworks from our bedroom balcony at 9 pm, we made the 15 minute dash to Bronte Cutting at 11:45. With only the moon to guide us, we found our place on a rock perched above the pounding surf below. As the clock struck 12, we wished for each other and our family a year filled with love, laughter and abundance as we watched the fireworks explode from the top of Sydney’s Harbour Bridge.
January 1 came and went in an uneventful way: a swim in the ocean, followed by reading, colouring in my mandala in my new “Colour Me Calm” book and eating leftovers. In the evening, we watched Marco Polo’s exploits (a fellow world traveler!) in the court of Kublai Khan on Netflix.
An early bedtime was followed by an even earlier rise at 4:30 am. Slipping on my robe and quietly tiptoeing down the stairs so as not to wake Peter, I emptied the dishwasher before making myself my first coffee for the day. With the cup warming my hands and aroma filling my nostrils, I made my way back up to our bedroom balcony in time to watch the spectacular sun rise. Swirls of fiery reds, oranges and golds filled the early morning sky as a cacophony of bird sounds from surrounding trees provided the background orchestra. Sipping my coffee as I stood barefoot on our balcony decking in my nightie and robe, I was moved to tears as I watched a miracle unfold, the start of another gloriously uneventful day. For a change, I did not offer petitions or requests to the Universe for more wealth, more success, more travel, more purpose. Bigger, better, more. Instead, I recited a prayer of gratitude and Thanksgiving: for my husband, our collective children and their spouses, the grandchildren, family and friends, our coastal sanctuary and for our gloriously normal and uneventful life.
Our normal and uneventful life.... I reflected on that as the skies morphed into the calmer blue hues and the neighborhood slowly came to life. In a world where “might is right”, winning is the highest good and people are either “winners” or “losers”, anything ordinary or uneventful is considered questionable at best. Yet it is in the sublime ordinariness of living that miracles occur. All day, everyday. The ebb and flow of the tides in our bay, the blooms in our luscious garden, the rainbow after the rains, the laughter of the children, breaking bread with loved ones, the gift of living another day filled with endless possibilities. We are already abundant beyond words! For the first time in 56 years, I realised that my life always was, and always will be, perfect in its present state, whatever that state may be.