Do you like what you see?

I regularly reflect languidly upon things, a pastime which some ungenerously tag as navel gazing. It is however a philosophic occupation I am powerless to subdue. Today I couldn’t help but think how pleased I am with what I am seeing.  This simplistic and seemingly self-congratulatory remark begs the question about the depth and breadth of the observation. It nonetheless satisfies me. It’s an achievement not always assured in spite of its appearance of brazen confidence. There are so many exacting perspectives when considering the question, “Do you like what you see?”  Some are superficial or materialistic, some practical, others psychological and entirely spiritual and introverted.  Whatever the standard  it should be enough if on the balance the answer is “Yes!”  The answer could I suppose be provocative even if “No!” especially if the enquiry promotes analysis and stimulates improvement. But I view that alternative more as a booby prize.  If one were pressed to canvass all the possibilities there may be cases where one likes what one sees, but shouldn’t; and similarly cases where one doesn’t like what one sees, but should.  In the result it theoretically doesn’t matter how one answers the question.  Yet I still prefer to say I like what I see. And frankly I do!

As a measure of its value I am aware that this current state of bliss is not necessarily one which will last forever. The limitation does however more to polish the situation than diminish its intensity.  Driven as I am naturally to confess this supreme satisfaction I cannot escape the further expansion that it represents the culmination of a lifetime prosecution. Like most people I have always wanted the result but I couldn’t have planned it better. In fact I cannot take credit for planning it at all!  This is part of what stimulates my delight; it is so purely fortuitous.  To be specific, until five years ago I hadn’t heard of Hilton Head Island.  My introduction to it was quite by accident through my sister-in-law while lunching at Les Fougères in Chelsea, PQ.  At that time our vacation resorts normally included only Florida and places more southerly.  It would never have occurred to us to have considered Hilton Head Island had it not been so heartily recommended to us.

Once here we fell in love with the place.  I recall my first elated impression upon driving onto the Cross Island Parkway! It instantly captured everything I have always held in high regard, all the things for which Hilton Head Island is famous and which have formed the template for the development of other communities.  Specifically I marvel at traveling though caverns of large live oak trees draped in hanging moss, the avenues bounded by palm trees; cycling on the beach for fifteen miles or upon endless miles of paths throughout the Island; avoiding snow and crowds while enjoying off-season rates; experiencing great restaurants and a superior service industry in everything from agencies to mechanics to dentists.  In short it is a thoroughly beautiful and comfortable place to be.

There are of course moments when my rambling thoughts are less than euphoric, when I question my superficiality and reflect upon the dreadful and inescapable realities of life here and beyond.  One would have to be extremely narrow minded to avoid such perilous diversions from time to time.  We shall never be completely insulated from the unfortunate horrors of the world.  But this is only one more reason to confess that I like what I see!