The beach in January is as deserted as it ever gets. I arrived long after dark, with clouds teasing a waxing moon as I drove up the unlit highway along the shore to the hotel. I'd intended to arrive hours earlier, but being stuck in traffic for three hours after a multi-car pileup closed the highway I was on for a while.But i was free of that now, my car purring as I piloted along a winding road that ducked in and out of the forest. After check in, I went to my room and walked out on the balcony. The moon was lowering itself to the horizon and shone strongly on the waves.
I smelled the ocean and listened to it, the shush and rumble of the waves but something else--something I miss acutely without ever realizing what it is i miss.
It's the heartbeat of the world. The long, slow, roll and thump of water lying easily in its cradle. The feeling of rightness flowed over me as I stood looking out to the sea. I remember this.
The next day, I went down to the beach. The wooden stairs down into the ravine took me out to the sand, packed hard from high tide the night before. Thousands upon thousands of clear discs littered the shore, piled against seaweed; these were countless by-the-wind-sailors, blown in on the high tide. Whole sand dollars, razor clam shells, and interesting rocks lay along the piles.
The beach itself was vast, the difference between the low tide and the high tide lines nearly two hundred horizontal feet. The sun's glare on the stretch of wet sand was almost unbearably bright. I walked for a while, picking up sand dollars and letting the sound of the ocean soothe me. The questioned I had seemed almost unimportant here, and for an hour there wasn't even anyone within shouting distance. I skipped, twirled in the irregular wind, and flew my kite for a little while. When the kite fell to the sand with a resounding thump, i knew it was time to go inside.
I came in, and something inside of me settled down. The frayed edges in me seemed to weave themselves back together a little as I ate, slept, swam a bit in the pool, and generally was a lazy bum for a day and a half.
I want to go back. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed the ocean.
I cleared my head a bit, and managed to move things around inside of it a little. I don't have a really good idea yet of the process I want to use, but I have a better handle on where I want to be a few months from now.And the rest, well, is waiting for the spring to get here. Waiting for the light to come back. Now that it's light later, I find that I'm dealing with the darkness better, and I know there are things i can do to keep myself sane and stable.
But things are beginning to move, whether i will them or no. Change is the only thing that is eternal, and change is happening as surely as the moon waxes and wanes.
Now is not forever. God is change.
Things that have changed:
- About two weeks ago, FezGirl asked me to be her primary, and I jumped up and down and accepted gleefully. Primary, in this case, means that we're both very important people in each other's life, and has implications for planning and stuff. Right now, we're not quite sure where this is going, and at the moment it feels somewhat temporary. We'll figure it out eventually. (and I WILL figure out another pseudonym for her!)
- I must have something to learn from Scorpios. I've got enough of them in my life these days.
- I've found out that I don't tolerate passive-agressive behavior very well these days. I've also lost whatever tact I used to have, and most of my patience.
- I think i've now officially lost whatever peace I'd found by the sea. My kingdom for a forest to run in...
Can you give everything you take
knowing what is broken for your sake
what if your mistake is what it takes to make you whole?In the dark thunder of release
will the flood of wonder never cease
will you you find your peace and all the pieces of your soul
what you love is what you learn
when there's nowhere to return...—a thousand days, November Project
