As I sat outside at the open-air cafe chomping on jerk chicken salad and staring past the bust of Buddha in the middle of the bougainvillaea-filled entrance, I couldn't stop thinking about the power of choice. Not just because the custom salad I chose was chock full of savory chicken breast and within the parameters of my new weight loss plan to "get my dancer's body back". But staring back at me was a Kingdom Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses; a huge symbol of my past.
It was my birthday. "So THIS is what forty-five looks like" I thought with an air of disbelief and acceptance. I had just entered the mirrored yoga studio at Retreat with its stark white walls contrasting the all black outfit I'd hoped would camouflage the weight I've amassed on this dancer's body after almost three years of retirement and eight months of island living.
I discovered this whimsical, candy-colored, carnival of an ice cream shop that instantly awakened my inner child, while appealing to my mature taste buds that can easily distinguish between a decent dessert and a decadent dessert.
