Somewhere as dusk turned to darkness, I gave up.
God had stripped me of my ability to do the things I'd planned: beach walking (dinky beach), recreational shopping (dead visa card), and eating in fun places looking at beautiful scenery (no cash, dead visa card).
Those things that I could be obsessive about, I had been disconnected from and had, in turn, become obsessive about that disconnection. In the darkness and silence, I gave up my right to obsess and control and plan.
I told God I'd be happy to drink water and Pepsi, and to eat the crackers and oatmeal bars I had in the room for a day. I told God I'd quit ringing my hands and second guessing my every move, and let Him take care of the plastic and the money ...as well as the pillow that was "too flat" and the bed that was "too hard."
And I went to bed and slept.
The next morning, I woke at dawn and went over to the beach. The water was full of people while the sand area was nearly empty. These weren't tourists (the tourists were still in bed, sleeping off too much of too much from the night before). Neither were they the people whose livelihood is the tourist -- the incessent taxi drivers and shop owners. I was surrounded in that bright Carribean water by "regular" Jamaican families -- 4 generations of them. Their cars and SUV's were parked along the street and they were swimming and laughing and having a lovely time at 6 am on a Saturday.
Boys under the age of 10 swam in their underwear. It reminded me of when I was a kid and we'd all go down to the creek by the Monks in Missouri and swim in the heat of the summer. I swam about for about an hour and just relaxed as the sun rose over the mountains to the east.
Back at the room I read. I studied the Word. I prayed. I read some more. I nibbled on the food I had. I never felt hungry or anxious. Mid-day i walked around the Cottages property and enjoyed taking photos of plants. I napped in the chair.