Heaven.

Heaven. We all want it. Our own little slice of heaven, someone else's perhaps? Some people may have it on this earthly plane, some people may have it on another. Regardless, we all covet it, we all look for it.
It could be anything. A beer after 5 o'clock, a good surf, your Mum's Sunday roast, a comfy bed after a 12 hour day at work, your dog, your Grannie? Who knows. It's up to you what it is and how you get it.
It can be something as small as a leaf or as long as infinity- but it has to make you happy. Wait, not happy... serene. Content even. It has to give you that high from which you do not fall. It's not a giddy height. It cannot be snorted, inhaled, injected. It's got to wash over you, without ego, drama or discrimination.
It comes highly recommended from the one and only you- and if you listen hard enough you just might find it. Your own little slice of heavenly happiness. Because let's face it, what's life without happiness?
Nothin'.
So the main reason I'm writing here is to be able to show you my own little slice of yumminess; something that time and time again continues to heal, develop and nourish me.
And it's not yoga, baking or a hot hunky romance with Ryan Gosling - or doing yoga with Ryan Gosling while something is baking. All tempting potentials, but no.
It is a place called Rosedale.
Do not mistake this with Rivendale the Elven land from Lord of the Rings. As much as I would wish, hope & love it to be, it is not, and I have come to terms with that.
What I speak of is my best friend's beach house on the South Coast of  NSW, Australia. 6 hours from Sydney where I live,  it is our home away from home, our tropical resort, retreat, love-shack, dojo - whatever you want to call it.
It is amazing, and I thank my lucky stars each time that I get the call saying to pack my bags & drive.
My best friend Georgie and I stopped being rivals when we were 8, and have never looked back since. We have ventured far and wide together, through many strange lands- kind of like Sam and Frodo you might say?
But we are at out all-time best in Rosedale. With sandy butts, sunburnt shoulders and jaffles in our mouths.
Here's to us Porge, to Rosedale, and to happiness- wherever it may be.