“When I Die, I Want to Remember How This Felt”
I was driving along yesterday on Highway 5, one of my favorite routes on the Samaná Peninsula and this thought came to mind.
“When I die, I want to remember how this felt.”
I was not only referencing the drive, flying on a motorcycle on a winding country road through some of the most lush and scenic vistas this side of paradise with a cobalt blue sky, a nice sea breeze, and tropical sun shining down on me.
I want to remember the freedom I had. I want to remember the cornucopia of beautiful, dark skinned women available to me. I want to remember the magnificent simplicity of life, including the fish meal I just ate. It consisted of a fish I picked out, grilled to perfection over a wood fire. Surely better than any corporate feedbag I’ve ever visited.
I want to remember the happiness spending over a year on this island in the Caribbean has brought into my life. My expat adventures have provoked feelings and emotions in me which I didn’t even know I had.
My mind, carefully conditioned by decades of edumacation system indoctrination, combing me for a life of pointless work that would benefit my paymasters far more than me, now ruined for life on the human farm.
What a thought for a man to have, only a few short years after often wishing he was dead as he shuffled papers and created scandals out of whole cloth for the dirty laundry business, a rat in a wheel making the wheels of the economy turn as money came in and money went out and he watched grey hairs slowly appearing in his scalp, and lines in his face getting clearer. Having a moment that he wants to remember even as he leaves this world. These are thoughts I never had in the “free country” I left behind.
Moments a man wants to immortalize.
I had just come from spending nearly a month in Southeast Asia, time which flew by all too quickly. It was a month I enjoyed immensely. But there’s just something about the Samaná Peninsula that cleanses this man’s soul.
I think it’s the simplicity of my life when I’m here.
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