Nags Head, N.C.
There have been so many days recently when I've had nothing to say.
So few fully formed thoughts have managed to gather in my head
The last few months have been a lot of reacting. acting. dealing. coping. carrying. doing. zoning. staring. waking. walking. driving. eating. cooking. sweeping. folding. shifting. moving. adjusting. reacting.
Holding things together. (Sort of. Not really.)
Holding things tight. Too close.
And then, with little warning, I was in my car driving south to see what would be waiting for me on that beach
Last year I gushed. My heart could barely hold all the joy.
I always knew this year would be different.
This was not - for me - a huge explosion of overpowering goodness.
It was a quiet seeping in of knowledge.
It was trying to offer back as much as I took.
It was watching quietly.
It was to face fears. To sit with discomfort. And be steady and strong.
I learned that this time I was here to listen.
To myself. To others. To the ocean and the sky.
And there was struggling. Against my own voices. The ones that in some moments I call “cynical” and in many moments just call “sensible.” They say “do you have any idea what you SOUND LIKE? when you write like this?"
Coming home saying “I’m overflowing with joy” might sound to some like it’s bordering on hyperbole. But it’s the best kind of hyperbole. It makes people smile begnignly at you.
Coming home saying “I listened to my heart and talked to the ocean” makes people give you that weird smile. The one that means they are going to steer clear of you because…well..you are clearly a little too crazy for this crowd.
I came home with sand in my shoes, salt water in my clothes, woodsmoke in my hair and shells in my pockets.
I came home a little lighter for the things I cast off into the waves
I came home with a soul sister in my heart.
I came home with more questions than answers.
I came home with the words of wise women still working their way in.
I came home with a sense of peace.
I came home with a quiet heart.
I came home feeling stronger
I came home knowing I contributed.
And ALL of this is exactly what I needed.
Serendipity Indeed.
