When someone asked me to remember the last time I was truly, happy, and stress free (as in happy individually.. not including having my daughter of course).
The happiest memory I really had was while I was living in the UK, I travelled to France by myself. I thought about giving away my plane tickets because my boyfriend and I had split up, and It didn’t cross my mind to travel alone on holiday. After my sister in the US convinced me to go by myself… I left London and headed for Paris..solo.
The memory that brings me so my individualistic/private happiness was during my forced extended stay in Nice (American credit card issues.. another story).
I sat on the boardwalk, under one of those white valances you see in postcards, with my feet up, writing in my journal.
Families scurried or strolled past me, some very burgeios, some thoughtful, some a bit chaotic and oblivious to their surroundings.
I stared out into the Mediterranean, watching someone throw a stick for this dog. The dog was playing in the turquoise warm sea water for at least 1 1/2 hours.
All I could think was this dog didn’t have a clue as to how lucky she was.