At times when I feel pressed in by life and surrounded by drought, I find my parched soul has wondered off from the abundant water supply readily available to me. I have turned away from the brights, the colorful, the spacious long distance perspective. This is when I need to zoom out far and wide and be reawakened to the sexiness of life.
When I was young, I imagined my future as an adventure that was fast, exciting, thrilling and sexy. My exploits had all the flavor of their own renaissance—lush with color, delicious food, lavish clothing and intrigue. Not for a minute did I dream of an adventure that was stale, prudent or trite.
I love to be taken up into the flavor of other cultures. I think we all do. Just look at the number of travel and cooking shows there are on TV—shows that help us explore hidden lands and mysterious flavors and textures, far removed from most of our everyday worlds. My heart and senses ache to trollop in the vineyards of Southern France and dance to the music of a sultry samba in Venezuela—where the women ooze sensuality and not Protestant nicety. I want to be blinded by the beauty of the silks saris in India, dance in the surf of Mozambique and eat fresh mangos in the jungle with the natives.
It bothers me that we have so sterilized and whitewashed the idea of appropriate sanctified living. Sometimes we so civilize and pillage our lives of their color and creativity that we rob them of their beauty.