Page 89 - Wake Up and do Your Thing

NICHOLAS BOOTHMAN
seemed to follow. Salt water, seaweed, fresh fish. Short gusts of warm wind wafted the aroma of freshly baked loaves over from the bakery at the edge of town, and the fragrance of freshly roasted coffee drifted from the cafe by the beach. The clean-up volunteers dumped the contents of the tables into garbage cans and carted them off before the wind could have its way with them.
Leaving the village three hours later I was forever changed. The remarkable knowledge and experiences gained during my three-month stay were etched into my soul. As Carlos turned his blue Renault Gordini onto the main road, I glanced down the lavender valley to the tiny village in the bay with the chapel on the cliff and wondered when I’d see my lovely friends again.
I had no recollection of the letter, until it found its way to me many years later and changed my life, and the lives of many others along the way. As you’ll soon see.
OK, This story sounds wonderful for you Nick, I hear you say. But how can I take this into my own life?
89