The beach
Placencia. Belize.
Three days of intense driving have come to an end. We left the border town of San Ignacio behind as we finally drove down to the coast. We visited Xuananurich, watched the kids climb a Mayan ruin, and then drove past the border deep into Guatemala to the town of Flores—where we finally enjoyed a decent cup of Americano. We hit every street food vendor in town, using my one-year-old Duolingo Spanish to order delicious local fare (though I've since forgotten their names). We embraced the mountain town vibe, even as the rental Kia Sorento threatened to fall apart. No regrets. We don’t even think of Tikal—those spider monkeys and ancient ruins can wait another decade, or whenever we decide to come back.
Now, surrounded by clear, Gatorade-colored waves and the blazing sun, everything finally feels like a vacation. Kids dig in the sand and splash in the pool, leaving NYC’s snowstorms far behind. Even cooking our own meals feels like a luxury, free from the constant shouting, bickering, and CNN crisis mode. That’s the world, and this is my life: stripping it down to the essentials, not overreacting to every little thing beyond my control, doing what I believe is best—and not being a jerk to others. It seems pretty good to me.
Zee is asleep after a morning of wild play, and J lounges on the beach. Everything is where it’s supposed to be—at least for now. My mind is still whirling from the stress of writing feature after feature and obsessing over how to edit a simple short film. But none of that matters here. At seven in the morning, local women sell crafts on the beach. The world goes on, and we all must do our part. That’s the only lesson I've learned from endless hours of driving in Central America with my family—we’re all doing our best, and sometimes that’s enough.
The key to true rest is knowing you’re loved.
In three days, we'll drive into what they call the center of the storm. Until then, I'm content here—in the middle of nowhere, in a simple beach town, with the people who matter most to me.
