10.28.2013

beach medicine


we didn't leave for the beach before dawn like I'd planned.  weren't there in time for a late breakfast.  instead, we left home after a late (or at least, ordinarily-timed) breakfast on Saturday morning.  little opportunities to practice letting go.  of planning.  of expectations.  of the "if everything goes just-so then it'll all be great!" mentality that I find myself gummed down into on a pretty regular basis.  I hear myself telling Claire "yes, it's hard when things don't go the way you want them to, I know- but it's alright...." and think huh, maybe I ought to listen to those words a bit as well.


and so, after a week of fevers and headaches and ups and downs with her poor sick self, after a visit with my grandma and a couple of days spent with Nichole and her sweet family, we found our way over to Folly Beach.  got there in time to settle in, walk around a bit, say hello to that pier, those waves, that salty ocean air I crave so much the roughly 360 or so other days out of the year when I'm hours and hours away from it.....

in time for an early dinner out with an almost-back-to-herself little girl, with a dessert of a lingering walk back to the house via the beach.




in the morning, french toast with leftover challah from a bread pudding I made a few days before.  Mike's best friend just happened to be in town (he lives in nj) for a wedding and he came over for coffee and breakfast.  a walk on the beach.  what are the odds?



Sunday.  a full week gone by and finally I felt like I really, truly had my girl back.  I painted her fingernails and toenails red.  the bonnet worked double duty as a sunshield and a seashell and treasures carrier.  she stopped often to draw pictures in the sand with a stick and I stopped often to look and smell and breathe and be.



a walk to the park, just the two of us.  he stayed back with a book.  there was an art and craft show.  the big blue bench swings she loves so much.  she took the photo below through the swing seat.  lots of mermaid stuff.  a one man band singing his heart out over Eagles and James Taylor covers.


a game of chase up and down the little pier.
me, looking at that house- the one with the high pitched metal roof... thinking yeah, I'd live there.
at least for part of the year anyway.


afterwards, we got smoothies and pastries and met up with our main squeeze at a little park.  ate.  played hide and seek.

a walk on the beach.  treasures.

a trip over the bridge to the seafood place for some fish to go with the leftover gumbo (thanks, Nichole and Byron!).


and then today.  a bumpy start, three souls wanting different things and not finding the right ways to communicate with one another.  tears and hurt feelings, loud packing and a bit of abruptness.  something else I need to practice- being okay with occasional abruptness.  not letting it throw me as much as I do.  I am a sensitive one.  and I think I have enough to practice for a while, thanks.

but then that strong, strong medicine.  waves.  salt.  sand.  billions of negative ions crashing around and telling me to stop worrying about my silly shit because none of it matters anyway.

be here now, says the ocean.  watch me dive, says the pelican.  can you see the whole universe in me? asks the fragment of a seashell.  so I was there.  I watched and listened and looked and tasted and filled up my cup as much as I could.

I am trying, I all but said aloud to that wise little broken shell.



*weekending with amanda

18 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. from the looks of my facebook home page recently, I think half of Western NC was somewhere along the SC coast last weekend! hope ya'll had a great time! xoxo (ps- always think of you as Day of the Dead approaches, remembering photos of your awesome candy skull face a couple years ago...)

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  2. i find transitions are hard, especially leaving a place that has offered me peace. wishing you a lovely week!

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    1. you know, that probably had lots to do with it- hadn't thought of it that way, but yes, the beach, this trip, did me good and it was too short. and I'm worse about transitions (and spontaneity in general) as I age it seems... I used to be all about a last minute road trip or change of plans, now I'm slower to settle into things and don't want to be budged until I'm darn good and ready to be ;)

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  3. Beautiful words. Thank you. I too love the ocean for her medicine. Katie x

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    1. and thanks to you~ gosh it's good stuff, the salt and sand and sounds of the sea....

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  4. Your getaway sounds like it was a great time, and abruptness is okay, everyone needs to let off steam or getting the wiggles out. You all had fun and once again you are renewed for the new week!! Love the photos.

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    1. thanks, karen~ I know this, in theory- it's the putting it into practice that can be a bit tricky. but I'm working on it, and imagine I will be for just about forever ;) and I'm learning that progress is more in the getting to a place where I'm easier on myself and let things slide, than it is to not have the challenges in the first place. because they certainly aren't going anywhere!

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  5. Oh, dear. Those last 3 paragraphs...big hug to you. I love your photos, especially the one of you. Whoever took it (mike, self timer...) really captured a glimmer into your soul. I had my own little internal meltdown leaving the mountains. I'm still sad when I stop and let myself be, but life goes on, and the life I have here and now is pretty darn sweet too. XO, Nichole

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    1. do you know how much I love that I can actually imagine that big hug from you since I've now experienced one in real life? pretty dang cool. thank you~ Mike took that one.
      I look forward to coming to visit you in your here-and-now life sometime, and betting it is indeed pretty darn sweet. xoxo

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  6. You had a really busy time recently. A meltdown is perfectly understandable. We are all toddlers at heart really. From afar it looks to me like you are doing extremely well already.

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    1. I think about that a lot, actually- how we are all toddlers at heart. sometimes I wonder if the reason it can be so difficult being with toddlers as they 'melt' is because I'm a wee bit jealous that it isn't socially acceptable for me to just full-on lay down and melt myself ;)
      and thanks, Rachel~

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  7. just this:

    "but then that strong, strong medicine. waves. salt. sand. billions of negative ions crashing around and telling me to stop worrying about my silly shit because none of it matters anyway. "

    YES

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    1. :) if only I could keep a little bit of ocean in my pocket......

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  8. love love love love the photos.
    my favorite? the sad face.
    Om. My. Goodness.

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    1. thank you, ma'am~ she is one of many faces, that's for sure
      xoxo

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thanks for taking the time to read and comment~