Sumptuously ensconced in an Emerald Suite at Raffles Boston, the view of the former John Hancock Tower (and I won’t learn its not-so-new name anytime soon) was new to me from this vantage point – one of those moments where a city I’ve known and loved for forty years takes on a new aspect, opening up in thrilling fashion. Rather than plan anything elaborate or fanciful for this day, I’d decided to make the most of our stay, padding about our rooms and perusing the spa while Andy took a nap.
Sometimes, such as on one’s 50th birthday, it’s best to simply be – to exist in the moment at hand, to breathe slowly and deliberately, to find the quiet and to make the space for being wholly present to whatever is at hand. Surrounded by such luxury and comforts, it is simple to be mindful in the midst of beauty, comfort and ease.
Down in the spa, I indulged in all their Eau Imperiale bath products, testing out the sauna, steam room, and ice showers – then trying out the fragrances at the Guerlain perfume bar, where the ‘Herbs Troublantes’ spoke volumes to me and a trio of Oud offerings hinted at future fall scents. The last thing I need is another perfume house obsession, so I merely perused casually, not on the hunt for anything particular, and the lightness and ease of the moment went well with the intentions of the day.
Back in the suite, Andy was still asleep, so I sat in the living room area and watched as the sun began to lower itself over the Charles River.
We had dinner reservations at La Pedrona, which is in the same building as Raffles, which means I could wear this lounge-like ensemble and pop in straight from our room. My definition of luxury.
My birthday dinner was a much-welcomed exercise in hilarity, as our server was straight out of a Kristen Wiig SNL sketch, only she was entirely earnest about it. I thought it might just be me and my silliness, but when she did the same thing with the table across from us, and they seemed as flummoxed as we were, I knew she was an experience unto herself. Even Andy almost lost it when I had to put my head down and stop making eye contact with her for fear of busting out laughing. It was a fun dinner, just me and my husband, in my favorite city. We didn’t need anything else.
The next morning came too soon, and with it another beautiful day. On the 17th floor of Raffles, we got a seat on the outside balcony, and life as a 50-year-old began in quiet earnest – brilliantly, beautifully, contentedly.
