Kind of an essay
I went to the beach this morning to watch the sunrise, and it’s ridiculous that I don’t go more often.
I love early mornings. Don’t you feel so productive when you wake up early and get some things done early morning?
I mean – I didn’t “get anything done” other than get dressed, make coffee, drive to the beach, sit on the beach, and watch the sunrise.
Sometimes that’s as productive as you can be and if that’s all you did for the day, it was still five things. Six if you count driving home. I’m counting it.
There were so many people on the beach. Some sitting in chairs, some fishing, some walking leisurely – maybe walking a dog, some getting their exercise, a few surfing, swimming, or paddle boarding.
Sitting on the sand, I kicked my shoes off, drank my coffee, and watched the sun peek over the horizon.
Not really thinking about anything specific.
I’m not trying to have an existential crisis on this particular day.
But, I’ve been feeling overwhelmed. There are a million things to do to keep life going, to keep the boys feeling loved (and happy, fed, and bathed.) The house is a disaster, so many errands to run, appointments to make, things to think about. Time to do things we want to do is SO hard to make. (Notice I didn’t say it’s hard to “find”).
Does your brain ever stop thinking? My brain Does. Not. Stop. and it’s super annoying.
Pandemics and school safety and democracy and for the LOVE of ALL THINGS when can I go far away by airplane again?
On top of it all – my day job is a shitshow right now. It feels like it’s going down an unpleasant road I’ve been down before. The one that ultimately made me up and quit my nearly 19 year career with the same company without even having gotten my resume together, much less actually looked for another job.
It will be fine, but right now I feel more in flight than fight mode.
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Same sand, same sunrise
So while sitting on the beach, I heard my phone “ding” on an app my mom and I use to keep track of each other. Sounds weird when I write it out like that – but whatever. Safety first. (We use Life360)
The ding indicated that she’d left her house. Hmmm. The boys spent the night with her and I was surprised they were both up and willing to leave the house at 7am!
They went to the beach too. I love that. They were a about 2 1/2 miles north of me on the same beach watching the same sunrise. Mom sent me a picture of my sunshine boys.
The beach where mom took the boys this morning is the one I grew up on. We live now about 6 miles west of the closest beach. Not far in the scheme of things, but not in my everyday circle of movement. Made me want to move back over the bridge.
Of course I mean to a house ON the beach where I could walk right out my back door TO the beach. Details.
I closed my eyes and smelled the salty air.
Sights, smells, and sounds around
The air felt kind of like nothing – no temperature. The sound of the waves was gentle, as the ocean woke up with the sun.
Every time someone walked in front of me, I opened my eyes. The shadow changed the light behind my eyelids. I tried to force them to stay closed when it happened, but they refused.
I couldn’t not open them.
The soft chatter of people communing floated by, the footsteps fell on the packed sand of those moving past, and little birds flitted about.
A sandbug was on my arm. I looked, brushed it away and closed my eyes again.
About thirty seconds later, I felt that frigging sandbug on the same arm. I brushed it away, and then watched it beeline right back toward me. Persistent thing. But there is a gigantic beach here – get the hell off me.
Flicking it away from me, I figured I was in that bug’s way. So, I walked to the edge of the water to stick my toes in. It was the perfect temperature – like Sea of Abaco-warm.
I bent down and floated my hands in the water, and then tasted it the way my Grama did every time she went to the beach (which – living walking distance to it – was nearly daily for a long time.)