The beach air cycles through my body and I feel free. This isn’t a beach town or a vacation place to me. I don’t love beach towny vacation places anyway. This was my home, and that’s exactly what it feels like - home.
A couple of weeks ago, we went for one night away in Hermosa Beach, a beachfront city in Los Angeles. It's about a four hour drive from where we live now, but feels like a lifetime away.
This home is the home where Grey was born. Where my whole self changed into Mom. I think back to 12 years ago and wonder how much I’ve changed, and how much I’ve stayed the same. If we are lucky (and wise), we are constantly evolving. Not usually to the point that we aren't our same souls. Older. Yes, and as the cliche goes, wiser if we are lucky to learn from life's uncomfortable middles.
Lately I've been stuck. Stagnant is the perfect word, defined as without inflow or outflow. I try and shut off sometimes because it’s too much. Life. I know that sounds heavy. I'm a big feeling introvert- so I do heavy, talk heavy, feel heavy. It's the only way I can move on. I read books and watch TV to escape. Life has felt mundane, and quite lonely. I had shoulder surgery three months ago and I'm still in pain in both of my shoulders. Boy you would be surprised at how often you use your shoulders during the day. A few weeks ago, I had to squat down in the shower and lower my head to wash my hair and I was in tears. I need this one body I've been given to work. I saw the Doc two weeks ago, and he thinks I have tendonosis in both rotator cuffs due to my funky wiring. I had severe scoliosis as a kid, and had surgery to help straighten my back as best as possible in my twenties. My spine was in an S, and the upper curve alone was 68˚. Now my shoulders are rounded forward, made worse by stress over the years, and the metal rods and hooks down my in my back. Sometimes the scar that covers about half of my back makes me feel like a bad ass, and sometimes it makes me feel broken. Lately it's been so much more of the latter.
Pain leaves you feeling depleted, lonely, empty. I didn't realize how much so, until I was in Hermosa. Here, I remembered who I am. I am curious, I am enthusiastic, I am creative. I seek authentic and vulnerable as if my life depends on it, I long for connection that fills you up, not connection that depletes. (Everything ingest, from TV, to social media to food to people is connection.) Here I remembered that life doesn't always feel so heavy. Here I was much more bad ass and not broken. It's so easy to abandon yourself. Now a few weeks later, I'm holding on to that badassedness with a white knuckled grip.
Running towards the beach. You could feel all of our excitement.
Hermosa Beach embraced LGBTQ Pride Month with a newly painted rainbow lifeguard tower on 13th Street. We all deserved to be loved, exactly as we are.
I had tears in my eyes watching the boys interact with Mother Ocean. Oh sweet divine! The squeals and laughter and dancing with the tide. It's hard to overthink when your ears are filled with the ocean tide, and while your skin is feeling the Ocean breeze, and your toes have melted into the cool wet sand.
At 6:30am on Saturday I met my friend Wendy, and we Starbucks'ed and pounded sneaker to pavement along the Strand. We didn't stop talking except to take a breath here and there.
There is definitely something to be said about a friend you can go years not seeing and pick up right where you left off. But there’s so so (SO) much to be said about friends who are consistent in your life. Friends who give equal. Friends who check in, friends who know your heart, your current days, what’s making you happy and what’s breaking your heart. Friends who remember your important days (both good and bad), who know your stories, who know your pain and who know your strengths and remind you of them when you forget. Thank you for reminding me, Wendy.
This is where Michael and I met. At a trashy bar. And on June 24th we celebrated 16 years of marriage. And Grey LOVES getting his picture taken. Obv.
These boys love the hotel pool more than life itself. And why wait until you get there, to wear your (painful tight rubber) googles?!
Re-entry was hard. I felt a little depressed for a few days. I remind myself to feel grateful for the lessened ache in my shoulders. Grateful for the fact I can still exercise and move my body. Grateful that we got to go away for the night. Grateful does a great job at cancelling out pain sometimes. Instead of being angry at my shoulders, I decided to feel empathy, and gratitude for them and how well they serve me. And life hasn't felt nearly as hard lately.
Sometimes, answers just take time. But that doesn't mean we should just stop living as we wait.
So Much Love,