Mosquitoes and Mangoes

The island is lousy with both right now. Earlier today, I stopped scratching off the majority of my epidermis long enough to answer what I thought was a knock at the front door. I was hoping it wasn’t a swarm of mosquitoes.

It wasn’t. It was a mango! A perfectly ripe, spicy mango fell from the tree above, bounced off the door, and came to rest at my doorstep. I picked it up, brought it inside, rinsed it off, and put it in the refrigerator. This happened a couple more times throughout the day.

While I question the necessity of mosquitoes, mangoes are one of nature’s most luscious gifts.  Back in the Mile High City, I considered the mango a scarce luxury. At $1-$3 each, I never dared to experiment. But now, with my fridge filling up with this awesome fruit, it was time to play!

I set out to soothe my ice cream craving by inventing a gluten-free/dairy-free mango-coconut frozen treat. By the way, if this is your first visit to the LifeMurmurs blog, welcome! You should know this isn’t a food blog. Today is a perfect example of how most days in paradise are full of unexpected and delightful surprises. And, if you read carefully, I’m including a bonus recipe that you might enjoy this holiday weekend. Here’s what I used and how I made it:

Mango Tree

2 ripe mangoes

4 tablespoons fresh lime juice

4 oz. Cruzan dark rum

8 oz. pineapple juice

4 oz. cranberry juice

Lots of ice cubes

¼ cup “sugar” (I used coconut crystals)

¾ cup water

12 oz. coconut milk

Peel the skin from the mangoes and cut the fruit away from the stone. Chop mango flesh into cubes and purée in a blender. While the blender is running, fill a tall glass with ice.  Next, add lime juice into the purée and blend while you pour half of the rum into the glass of ice. Stop the blender and set the purée aside. Pour half of the pineapple juice  and half of the cranberry juice into the glass and stir. Now, take a deep gulp from the glass. Take a short break and keep drinking until the glass is empty. Nyum nyum nyum

Fully refreshed, bring the “sugar” and water to a boil in a small heavy saucepan over a moderate heat, stirring until the sugar is fully dissolved. Cook briskly, undisturbed, for about 5 minutes, until the mixture becomes a light syrup. While the syrup is cooking, refill your empty glass with ice, and add the rest of the rum, pineapple and cranberry juices. Stir. Taste to see it’s as good as the first one. Add a splash of mango rum (in keeping with the theme). Taste again. Release a big, smiling, happy sigh. When the syrup is finished cooking, pour into a heatproof bowl and let it cool to room temperature.

Take another couple of healthy sips from your glass. Then stir the coconut milk into the cooled syrup. Have another sip. Stir the mango purée into the coconut syrup until it is well mixed.. Place mixture in freezer for 3-4 hours, stirring every 30 minutes or so to break up the icy particles as they form. Drain the rest of your glass. Sprawl out in the hammock on the patio and fall asleep. Forget to stir. When you wake up a couple of hours later, your dreamy mango-coconut concoction will be ready to serve. Spoon into coffee mugs…because, that’s how we roll on the island.

“But what about those awful mosquitoes?” you might ask. To that, I say, “Dengue, shmengue.”  Care for another mango?

From my paradise to yours,

B.

St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands

“The standard of success in life is not the money or the stuff — the standard of success is absolutely the amount of joy you feel.” — Abraham-Hicks

What do you do when you hate living in paradise?

Many people refer to our brief existence on this planet as “Earth School.” Well, if the world is a school, then I live in the middle of the playground!  Right here in tropical paradise. And the island I live on is my homeroom teacher. And she can be a real B!^@#.

What many tried to tell me before I moved here is true. Island living can feel like a crash program in becoming humanly whole. And many come to it only to be chewed up and spit back out.

In my third month on-island, I was getting chewed up pretty badly. I was in the worst part of the culture shock continuum. Everything felt, tasted, smelled, looked and sounded ‘wrong’ to me. Everything, including driving, had to be done differently than I was used to, and it was guaranteed to be more difficult, less convenient, and/or unnecessarily inefficient.  Paradise has many ills. Most are the same as exist on the mainland, but at significantly higher rates — crime, corruption, poverty, racism, Dengue fever, incest, domestic violence, etc. Oddly, I think it might have been the discovery that Amazon wouldn’t deliver anything other than books and software to the island that threw me into the pit of “rock bottom” here on The Rock.

It was that same evening my husband brought a colleague home for dinner.  It was my first time meeting Jim, but my emotions had run amok and I just couldn’t be bothered to hide them. Not my ideal way to make a first impression, but I didn’t care.

Jim turned out to be a compassionate soul. Having once been in similar shoes, and subsequently spending many happy years here, he said the words that made me even less happy to be here:

“You will never change the island. The island will change you.”

These words would haunt me for weeks.

I was speechless. I didn’t much care for the first part. Every ounce of my ego was geared to control my circumstances and environment. I’m hard-wired for victory, and I had set up the island as my adversary.

At the same time, I was intrigued by the second part. After all, isn’t that why I purged my life down to the bare bones and came down to this God-forsaken so-called paradise in the first place? Wasn’t it I who yearned to live “closer to the bone?” Wasn’t “life as an adventure” my intention?

I wanted all of those things. And…I didn’t want to be here. But the real stunner was realizing I didn’t want to go back to the States either. I felt desperate and trapped “between the devil and the deep blue sea.”  In that moment of grace that often feels like letting go of the end of your rope, I chose surrender.

Surrendering to the Sea - Lindquist Beach, St. Thomas, US Virgin Islands

The next day, I signified my turning point by baptizing myself in the turquoise bathwater of the Caribbean Sea. As it turned out, it was an initiation into the world of play.

On her blog, Brene Brown talks about what constitutes play.  She quotes play researcher (and husband?) Stuart Brown who lists time spent without purpose as one of the essential properties of play.  I have come to agree with him. That day at the beach, I reconnected with all those “feel good” emotions children come by so easily.  I remembered what it feels like to be free, timeless, and present. I found that pursuing joy with no goal or agenda will lead you to that place inside that is your calm center. Your inner island sanctuary.

For me, playing is like following a trail of breadcrumbs left by an other (my higher self? Great Spirit?) It can constitute any activity that comes from a sense of inner desire and blind curiosity.  I return to it, guiltless, again and again because I’m rewarded with serendipitous surprises of epiphany and innovation. Play is sacred and necessary. It’s how I grow.  It’s a journey of connection, and it keeps me true, centered, and joyful!

I have been living in paradise for thirteen months now (joyfully for at least the last seven) and have since graduated with honors in the art of spending time without purpose. As it turns out, play is a doorway. My friend Jim pointed me toward it, and I had to choose to enter.

Crossing it’s threshold has led me to discover countless blessings and gifts. It was through that doorway that I began unleashing my deepest levels of creativity and started my own business. It was through that doorway that I embodied the truth that, in the words of Joseph Campbell:

“We cannot cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live in joy.”

Friday’s Finds

Collage of items found on Bluebeard's Beach, St. Thomas, VI

Tossed and tumbled by the sandy seawater, the innermost spiral of the shell washes ashore velvety smooth and creamy white. They remind me of white Calla Lillies.