Miami Medicine

My family planned a vacation to go down to Miami for the long President's Day weekend, and it was one fantastic time. My niece and nephew were incredible company on the flight down. It was 80 degrees when we deplaned. We were greeted with warm, chocolate chip cookies when we checked into our hotel. We zipped into our bathing suits and swam in the heated pool until the sun went down, all of us happy as clams.

I was so surprised by how content I was, and how perfect it all felt. I told my mom that I've been really depressed--though trying really hard not to be--and it's the simple pleasures that change everything. Toes in the sand. My sister-in-law's cooking. My littlest niece saying my name for the first time. The giddiness I felt on the first day lasted for our entire trip, no matter what we did.

Today, I read this Note from the Universe:

It may seem a bit backwards for some, but the first step one might take towards rearranging the present circumstances of their life is to stop dwelling upon the present circumstances of their life.

Or to put it more succinctly, just choose to be happy. I've been trying to choose to be happy for a long time, and it was so maddeningly elusive. For whatever reason, it was found in North Miami Beach. I gathered it up, packed it in my suitcase and took it back with me up to Brooklyn.

On the way back from LaGuardia Airport, we were stuck in tremendous amounts of traffic, and though we were sitting still on the highway, our cab driver was playing great Haitian music which once again transported us back to a sunnier place, and I dare say even made even the traffic enjoyable. When I got out of the cab, I thanked him for the music. He popped the CD out of the player and said, "Keep it! I can get a new one, but you will not find this here. This is not from Port-au-Prince--this music is from the country. They call this Campas."

I was so incredibly touched. The happy I packed in my suitcase got even bigger. And as I sit here writing, I'm still grooving to L'Orchestre Tropicana D'Haiti. As they say in Haitian Creole, Mesi mil fwa, my friend!