The Long and Winding Road

We're in the Fort Pickens Gulf Islands National Seashore this afternoon. I love Fort Pickens. Driving through the gate on the west end of Pensacola Beach is like traveling to another world. A desert world of white sand dunes, low shrubs, and a calming, insistent rumble: the nearby tide.

 And the memories! Many of them include my parents. When they visited--so many years ago--we would come here just to drive the desolate road. This place reminded us of the highway between Barranquilla and Santa Marta. I left Northern Colombia after the first grade, but I still remember that impossibly long drive along the skinny, salty Caribbean Transverse.

Unlike Northern Colombia, it's cold here as the sun sets on this near cloudless day. Somehow we've managed to end up at a busy beach. At least seven people surround us, all with cameras.
I'm aware that no matter where I sit along the shore I'll be in someone's photo. I'd like to say I don't give a damn, but by now you and I both know that's not true. Pelicans bob on the frigid water. Those crazy birds, photo bombing with glee.
I've been missing my girls lately. When they lived at home, we had plans every Saturday night; we did what they did. But as empty nesters, this trip to the beach is our big outing for the day. And not too shabby, I'd say.
But  Chris and I want to come up with connections for times like this. After our kitchen remodel, we'll invite friends over for dinner. And I want to get a group of women together to take a class on charcuterie-making. Chris' personal training business, Performance Studio, is taking off, and that's creating a community, which is all fine and good.
But what I really want is to get in my car and drive inland until I reach a daughter.
1.25.2020
Photo credits: Chris Zokan

Blue Jean Yoga

A gorgeous sunny day at the beach. Unbelievably beautifully sunny, windy, cool. The waves sound delicious. I turn my face to the sun and breathe in deep. Again. Be here now. Don't look back.
This morning I woke up with anxiety. So much, so unnecessary, so what. It occurred to me I'd rather feel ANYTHING, even core-shattering anxiety, than sadness and grief.
But grief came knocking. A few hours into the day, Natalie left for college after a long winter break. Now, sitting on this shore, I wish her well. And Olivia, too. My babies used to play around this chair at this beach, and something about the memory calms me.


Lately I've been reading Deepak Chopra (my latest favorite), watching Jai Dev Singh Kundalini videos (see him here), listening to Abraham Hicks (one of many youtube videos here), and meditating with the Insight Timer teachers (https://insighttimer.com/). At the moment, it feels like too much self-improvement, and not enough actual change.
Will all I'm learning make me a better person? And according to whom? I'm not sure today.
The sand beckons, so I go through some blue jean yoga poses and it heals my soul.
Today Chris and I will jump back into our lives: the kitchen remodel, a manuscript edit (still working on the sequel to The Existence of Pity-- it's so close!), work, more work, and plans to open our garage gym.
I don't want to leave, but it's getting cold. First stop, Lowe's. I'm thankful for the healing ocean. After a last deep breath, I gather my chair, and don't look back.

photo credits: Chris Zokan