Yesterday the Caribbean Sea became my bathtub.
No, it was not because I was participating in some exotic island ritual.
It was because I didn’t have running water in my house. Not nary a drop.
In Tobago we have an ongoing water shortage. Most homes have a backup water tank, so when the city water goes out, you flip a switch and keep it moving.
Until the tank runs dry.
Ours did.
It had been two days since I’d showered and everybody knows it’s too damn hot in this country to do that, especially since every room in the house is not air-conditioned.
So, I got up early in the morning as I have done many times and walked to the beach to take what Caribbean people call a “sea bath”, but this time I took it to a whole ‘nother level.
I brought my lil travel body wash with me in my beach bag. After I got done frolicking a bit, I discreetly rubbed myself down with it, as if it were sunscreen, and went back into the water. Smelling fresh again never felt so good! Even though my rinse was salty.
Now, I know some of my friends and family will hear this story and be all like “anh-anhhhh, I couldn’t be livin’ like that!”… You know that sound they make. But here’s the thing. They don’t have to live like this. Nobody is even suggesting that they should.
And then I smile to myself because I remember that I don’t need anyone else to understand my choices.
That’s when I realize that every beautiful life costs something. If you only looked at my Instagram, it’s full of me smiling, sipping drinks, playing or being fabulous on an impossibly gorgeous beach, waterfall or countryside.
I can’t count how many times I lay in bed fantasizing about literally this, living abroad, on an island, taking in the ocean breeze, savoring exotic fruits, working for myself in flip-flops and shorts.
And now that I’m actually living the fantasy, I have to pinch myself every day to see if this is real.
Then again, sometimes I don’t need a pinch, because here comes some minor discomfort to remind me of reality.
That even though I love it, my life is not perfect.
Yesterday the Caribbean Sea became my bathtub.
Sometimes the water runs out.
Sometimes I’m sweating in the kitchen.
Sometimes the roosters decide 4:30 a.m. is party time.
But those things don’t bother me as much as they would if I had to endure them back when I was spending too many of my days working in that government office under fluorescent lights, staring out the window, wishing for this island life.
And this brings me to this key point.
The question isn’t whether your life has tradeoffs.
It already does.
What tradeoffs are you already making… and are they buying you the life you actually want?
