Believe it or not, I’m having good nights and bad nights falling and staying asleep while I’m in the Dominican Republic. It’s what’s on my mind that keeps me up and causes the twist and turns of this new paroxysm of temporary insomnia.
The first night, Monday, it was the scope of the challenge I will have when I start with the newest cigar in my bag – TBA. How the hell am I going to satisfy a sixth generation cigar company who has a track record better than Usain St. Leo Bolt, the untouchable Jamaican sprinter?
Then Tuesday comes along and I’ll admit I’m smitten. Even Marlene Dietrich’s rendition of “Falling in Love Again,” pales in comparison to the way I feel right now about this island and its people. Do I stay or go?
And then Wednesday shows up and I write about how Luis Sanchez and his magical maze of mesmerizing blends are changing the landscape of cigars just like Mt. St. Helen’s decision to projectile vomit changed forever the near and far to this very day – and will the FDA destroy this creative tradition for the health of the children?
And today – Thursday? Who knows. I’m not in bed yet. But after the whirlwind tour of the El Artista factory in Tamboril, my head’s spinning like a campaign press secretary’s apology for a candidate’s verbal gaffe.
No. Sound sleeping doesn’t seem to be included in this trip. But you know what is, the incorporation of Existentialism into my way of thinking. A kind of rational thought that is perhaps best explained by the Danish philosopher, Søren Kierkegaard, who proposed that each individual’s life “. . . is solely responsible for giving meaning to (it) and living it passionately and sincerely or authentically.” (Wiki)
And that philosophical addition into my cranium is what may be partially responsible for my erratic sleep patterns during this trip. I want to live my life the way I am wired, no matter if some of the circuitry is misguided. What I do know, is that I will give up my sleep so that I can rest being myself.