Perfect

It is just such a beautiful day! We went for a short walk on the cliffs, and something has shifted—it’s summer! The color of the sand is different, and something about the caress of the air. How lovely everything is!

The lapping of the sea reminded me of the music I was listening to earlier:  Hawaiian guitar (Ledward Kaapana, Black Sands). It’s an album that connects me to a place I’ve never been—the warm serene beaches of Hawaii. I’ve constructed a whole environment around that music, a place that brings peace and joy and such happiness that I’m reluctant to go to the actual Hawaii. But I was thinking what a wonder it is that music can instigate such imaginings. I don’t understand why some people favor loud angry sounds, although it must mirror something they need or remember. Anyway, there I was, immersed in the lushness of the music, and then there I was, standing on the edge of the cliffs, immersed in the lushness of the day, and it was all so perfect.

The music, I should add, was to distract me from a minor surgical procedure this morning—the removal of a small skin cancer on my forehead. It worked. It was quick and done and the anticipation was worse than the event. The hardest part is going to be when I have to remove the dressing, clean the site and reseal it. I am squeamish about squamous.  Actually I’m squeamish about most medical things, but I wanted to use that sentence really badly.