Up

I've spent the majority of my time on the beach this week.  Today it didn't feel right.  As I sat on my rock, talked to my friend, the heron, and watched the waves crash, I felt I didn't need the waves today. Then what did I need?

I headed into San Luis Obispo.  Bliss Cafe, a detox juice, an hour of reading. That felt right.  But then it didn't.  Starbucks, journaling, a warm cup in my hand.  That felt right until it didn't.  I ended my time in San Luis at a beautiful restaurant called Novo.  A gorgeous, healthy salmon salad, peppermint tea, and creekside dining.  That was just right.

Back in silence at the condo, curled up in a blanket the color of the sea, reading, dozing, and reading again. Wonderful, but something was still missing. Grabbing my shoes and jacket, unsure where I was going, I headed in the direction of the beach. A few feet later, the destination became clear.  Up.  I veered to the right onto a trail leading to the top of the ridge overlooking the whole of San Luis Bay.  That's what I needed today.  A different perspective.

Four days of being next to the waves, letting the force of each one hit my ears.  Today, as I hiked to the top, out of breath but exhilarated by the magical feeling of the forest, I was thankful that I couldn't hear each crashing wave.  Sitting on the bench, watching the waves crash far below, barely able to hear them, felt relieving.

Through the last several months, the waves have not stopped crashing in my world.  I have not only watched them crash, but I have also felt trapped under them, tossed and pummeled with each one.  Today I found a higher vantage point.  Being away has given me opportunity to back up, rest, and find another trail - one that will take me higher.

This new way of seeing hasn't been tried by the fires of family life, but at least the trail has been identified. Surely it will reveal itself again when I'm feeling mauled by the waves of marriage and family and responsibilities.  I can only hope.  Here's to one more day of rest and solitude!