The Spectacular Now
The movie The Spectacular Now is playing.
Toto is by my feet.
Leo is holding my hand.
We’re surrounded by people our age—interesting, curious, present.
Then the rain starts.
At first, it taps the tent roof softly.
A little later, it comes down harder.
Outside, the fires keep roaring, completely unmoved by the weather.
Candles flicker in the wind, doing their best to stay lit.
We’re at La Guarida, a cultural space a couple of blocks from our home in José Ignacio, Uruguay—a small fishing town that has watched me grow since I was a little girl.
My mouth is watering.
An incredibly talented young chef is preparing polenta with ragú.
The smell fills the tent—warm, grounding, impossible to ignore.
And without trying to explain it or make sense of it, I feel it land in my body:
This is my spectacular now. Right here.
We’ve been here for a couple of weeks.
Leo and I have danced until the early morning hours.
Watched movies under the stars.
Talked for hours about everything and nothing.
Shared long meals with friends.
Taken slow walks on the beach.
And then there’s Toti—our beloved dog—running freely along the coast.
No leash.
Meeting dogs of every size, sprinting, stopping, sprinting again.
Watching him fills my heart with joy.
This is paradise to me because I don’t want to be anywhere else.
For a couple of months a year, nothing feels unfinished.
Nothing feels rushed.
I’m not waiting for what’s next.
I find myself writing about these experiences, capturing them for later.
And at the same time—I’m just here.
This is how my husband of now 33 years, Leo, and I built our extraordinary life.
In the dinner we don’t rush.
In the conversation we stay for.
In the walk we take without checking the time.
In the places that hold our memories.
In appreciating what’s already there.
Tonight, with rain on the roof, fire outside, candles flickering, Toto by my feet and Leo’s hand in mine, I don’t want anything else.
And that feels like more than enough.
This is my Spectacular Now. What’s yours?
With love, Noel.
