Well Fed Soul: The Sweet Life

I'm happy to report that our Island weekend was a success. Within minutes of our arrival, we felt at home, and could so easily envision ourselves living there, surrounded by small communities, farms, and the briny scent of the sea. This way we have of yearning for something new and exciting, then flying by the seat of our pants straight into it; it's kind of how we roll, when choosing a new adventure, I now realize. Much akin to throwing darts at a map, the Mister and I throw out numerous ideas, see how they sit, and when one intuitively feels right, we go for it. This may be viewed as a somewhat haphazard way of doing things, I realize, and yet...why not? Thus far, it's worked for us. Because, at the end of the day, if you're really, truly able to listen to your gut, and trust your instinct, it will tell you the right move. Every time. (Of course, this does involve shutting off all those annoying doubts and sidetracking insecurities endlessly circling through your brain.) I think, when something feels right, all the way down to the very marrow of your bones, it is. When we spend too much time analyzing and questioning our next move in life...perhaps that's our inner, instinctive self, throwing up roadblocks and barriers for a very good reason. Perhaps we simply need to listen to, and trust our instincts, a wee bit more.

Incidentally, I'm not advocating an Act on Impulse Movement, here. If that were the case, I'd be in serious trouble. Wine at noon (I'd never), chocolate all day long, speaking exactly what's on my mind (believe it or not, I do edit myself...mostly)...you see it could go a little awry. Dangerous stuff, my friends.

My point here is that, when we allow our instincts to guide us, we do tend to find ourselves in some pretty sweet spots.

The risk of failing, of our instincts being wrong...when weighed against the rewards of living life fully and with gusto, of the joy of leaping headlong into adventure...well...