Hedonism

currentisland

 

There was a time when the only thing I thought about when I woke was, “What island will we party on today?” I’d reach for a leftover glass of wine on the nightstand, a tangle of sheets and a foggy memory of the night before (which usually involved a party on a private island…) and plan my day. A bathing suit, the cooler packed with wine and stuffed olives, cold shrimp and hot sauce. A few towels in the beach bag, cash and snorkel gear, the Siren song of the Exumas…

 

You are now expecting, I suppose, a blog post about one of two things:

  • The negative side of the hedonistic life – all those beautiful people you have envied,  with more money than sense and too much time on their hands are actually miserable,

or

  • A nostalgic look back at my self-indulgent years of wine and reggae, a diatribe of longing for an icy glass of Chardonnay – Bahamian accented nothings whispered in my ear, and fresh hush-your-mouth crabs cooked on a camp fire.

 

Sorry, but life with more money than sense is a lot of fun, and I am past the stage of wishing for a history that contains the good stuff, but excludes the more checkered aspects of my addiction and lack of restraint…

 

mmonroe2

The Marilyn Merlot or the Seaglass Chard? Sandy Cay or Indigo Island? Decisions, decisions…

 

What is your Purpose?

This post is about purpose. What were we put on this earth to do? The problem with hedonism, and the reason it leads to a ho-hum, is-that-all-there-is existence every time, is that people need purpose. Had I been part of a group studying the effects of tourism on reef habitats, or been involved in Bahamas Habitat, or even sung in a band during my years in the Exumas, perhaps things would have turned out differently for me…

 

I was in church yesterday. The preacher asked this question, and I’m going to ask it of you:

If you could do ANYTHING for God, and there was no risk of failure, WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

 

Think about that.

 

There is no question that I miss The Bahamas. Every day. But I do not miss waking up, looking at the ceiling and having fourteen hours stretching in front of me with nothing meaningful to do…

 

Today I’m not drinking because I have purpose (and I’m late).

 

How come you’re not drinking?