Today was one of those days where everything feels slightly magical. It is almost as if just by touching an object, and listening hard enough, you can hear it whisper its story. Any object. The sand, the waves, the leaves blowing on the trees… I am not entirely sure where this magic comes from. Surely it is an internal positioning of myself. Perhaps a combination of expectation (or lack thereof), freedom from stress, and just the right blood sugar level mixed with the right amount of hormones. Everything takes on a rosy tint even though the external world has not really changed. Of course that is what it is, but it feels like everything is just lining up perfectly for me to float through the universe and learn/understand. It feels as if I can sense many wills rubbing up against me, brushing bubbly over my skin, and receding like sea foam. On these days the experience of being alive is quite enough, and I can sit, still, in bliss.

Today we went to the beach. The first beach we went to had a lovely river bending around a bar and emptying into the sea. We watched a line of clouds puff towards us, dropping sheets of rain into the sea only feet away from the warmth of sunshine. The wind and overcast sky set up the perfect expectation from the day. We weren’t alone on the beach- there was a man playing fetch with his dog, and a couple lazily casting rods into the river- but there were so few people that the people stood out as individuals with desires and wills of their own. Eventually it started raining on that beach and so we left in search of another. By then I was in a heavy state of bliss, life flowing happily about me, and I was completely amused by everything I saw.

At the second beach the experience was completely different and yet kept the same blissful undercurrent. The sun was shining brightly and people were playing in the water. We laid out to sunbathe and Nikola buried me in the sand. As he added more weight I began to feel my heartbeat pressing out against the sand in a steady, slow rhythm. I lay there for awhile, watching nothing and just feeling. Eventually I found pipe expelling water onto the beach in the distance and was captivated by the way it rushed out onto the sand. We dipped in the water twice, and then prepared to leave. I dried, took off my wet swimsuit and was treated to the wonderful embrace of a flannel shirt. The sensation took me back to when I was a teenager, and everything was so very new and intense, and I considered where I had been, and where I was now, and tried hard to avoid judgement in either direction. As we left I watched the people sunbathing that we had to tiptoe around. Dark, sun-kissed skin that belied how much time each of them had spent on the sea this summer. I realized that I love bodies. Not just attractive bodies, but many bodies of different shapes and sizes because they all have these interesting signs of life.

On the way home we watched a storm roll in over Varna. I watched the last traces of sunshine play in the leaves of the trees. Somehow the English word for play does not hold enough weight. Play has become too cerebral in my American consciousness. This was a physical play- a dancing, a movement, a manipulation- so much more than just a concept. I tucked away that amusement, watched people jumping off the bridge, and as we made the final turn to Nikola’s house the rain began.

All in all it was lovely, but more importantly, it was blissful. 

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