Perfection
I was born in New York City and lived in the city until I was 11 years old. I enjoyed my life in New York, but my parents decided that we were going to move to the Dominican Republic. I did not mind because I love my Dominican heritage and looked forward to the new experience. Looking back, I thank my parents for taking me to the Dominican Republic, because those 7 years have truly shaped my personality and my perspective on life, especially my encounter with perfection.
When dollars are converted to pesos, the Dominican currency, there is a large return. Thus, I attended the best school in the country, which included the richest families in the country. I made many memorable friends and on weekends we would go to a town called La Romana, analogous to the Hamptons Long Island.
There we would hop on ships and cruise out to the middle of the ocean to a place called Palmilla, an area where the water would reach your waist, there were no waves and one could clearly see their feet on the ocean floor. Everyone would anchor their ships, play music out of their ships, and take out drinks on floating coolers. We would spend the day amongst our friends, partying in the ocean. It was amazing and unforgettable, but it was not perfection.
We would arrive to Palmilla in the day and leave as the sun was setting. That view in and of itself was stunning. Standing in the clear blue sea, looking across the horizon at the range of rainbow colored clouds with the large red sun in the middle of it all; its rays of light bouncing off the water adding a romantic touch. Yet, the best part was climbing into the ship and cruising horizontal to the sun. Having the wind smack one’s face and half-naked body, the salty smell of the air invading one’s lungs, a captivating view to acknowledge as well as appreciate, and with a tipsy feeling overcoming and enhancing one’s senses, it was perfect; that was perfection.
The ride back to the dock was about 20 minutes and during those 20 minutes of perfection I reflected on life. Overall, I thanked God for the experience and was overwhelmed by it all. I mean a few years ago I was just another kid in New York. I never thought or could have imagined such a view, feeling, or event was possible. I could describe it to anyone, but one cannot fully appreciate the perfection that I felt and saw without experiencing it themselves. The encounter with perfection altered my out look in life because I began to appreciate the green mountain sides, the star filled nights, and the clean white sandy beaches.
In all, I will always remember those 20 minutes of perfection and how I reflected on my life, how I felt grateful and blessed with the moment, and how I would never forget or experience perfection again. Why, because of sensory adaptation that is why something is only funny the first time and why the first hit of heroin is always the best, so I got my first hit of perfection and therefore perfection will never feel the same way again.