Yes, I needed it.
I’ve been going through some things in my life lately that required the reset of my Zen button. What better way to do that than to head out for a beach weekend with the girls? Not ever having done such a thing before, I didn’t know what to expect. Of course, we packed the usual – various wines, snacks for grazing (including many varieties of the best dark chocolate I’ve had in a very long time), picked up some sushi to go, the cameras, towels, etc. and arrived at our final destination shortly after 8-ish Friday Night.
The first thing we did was crack a bottle of wine and lay out a spread of goodies to nosh on before hitting the beach for a long walk. Cracked another bottle of wine, filled our plastic wine glasses and headed off to the water.
We walked. And walked. And walked some more. The water was warm, the breeze (ok, wind) cooled everything off nicely, the moon was bright, and the air smelled wonderful!
We ended up going to bed at a decent hour, and I was up early. Grabbed my sundress, the room key, and left the other two sleeping beauties to their dreams as I set off to the water. Again. And I walked. And walked. And walked some more. Lather, rinse repeat. I think I was up and down that beach for hours, just simply trying to clear my head, enjoy being where I love the most, and get that Zen button reset. By mid-morning, I was starting to feel like myself.
I don’t know why I have such an affinity for the shore.
I grew up in California – the Silicon Valley, specifically – and I remember my folks taking us over the hill on Hwy. 17 to Santa Cruz to do the beach. We had family picnics at Capitola, went to Sea Cliff for other family gatherings and checked out the cement ship with my Grampa and Dad. The water is cold out there, but I didn’t know the difference back then. One afternoon I got a wild hair – was feeling a little down – and jumped in my car, headed up to Half Moon Bay. It was foggy and rainy and I sat on the rocks with the Police’s Synchronicity album playing on my Walkman. I sat there and wallowed in what had me bummed, but left a much happier person. I was all of 18, and I still remember that few hours I sat there and cried and watched, and smelled, and…well…I just WAS. That has stayed with me all these years.
All of the miles I covered this weekend, by myself, and with the girls, put my Zen right back where it needed to be.
I did a LOT of thinking; a little crying (not as much as I had thought, as there is something about the shore that numbs you to what actually bothers you); and a LOT of walking. WE did some amazing eating and drinking, had my first mojito ever, ate the best she crab soup I’ve ever had the pleasure of inhaling, learned how to make spicy flat bread (thank you, Sweetheart, from Amos Mosquitos), and just how to be me, in spite of all the drama.
So I now humbly submit some of my pictures from this weekend: