"Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again." Daphne Du Maurier's "Rebecca."
Longing. Heart-breaking, gut-wrenching longing. I remember that feeling.
Mine was not of a homestead or family estate. It was of the ocean. Salty air, sand between my toes, and the high-pitched screeching of sea birds. It was of the thunderous roar of the waves crashing and spitting up upon the shore the remains of beautiful shelled creatures, whose armor was of no consequence to the awesome power of the deep.
It was of long walks filled with inspiring sights and peace-inducing breezes.
Today, I had those experiences, once again. In the midst of all of life's challenges and trying situations, I was able to decompress for a while and once again, appreciate the miracles of the moment.
I don't know if I coined the phrase, "returning to self," as I've used it on a number of occasions in my journey of a writer's life. But, today, I did. I truly feel as though I've reconnected to my self in a way that I've not felt possible in some time.
It may have to do with heading out early in the morning to watch the schools of dolphin swim by and frolic in the waves. Or observing the hawks dive into the surf and come up with a catch. Or, seeing the surfers wait patiently for the right moment to catch the wave. So many beautiful moments that serve to refresh and re-energize me in the midst of chaos and unnerving transition.
Things just don't seem to take their toll on me as much since I've returned home. I feel more resilient.
I have my moments. But, they are fewer and farther in between.
I suppose I needed this transition to get me to the place that I long to be in my writing. Baby steps, once again.
I meet my muse there at the ocean's edge. I hear her most clearly when I take the time to walk to the sand and let my vulnerability call to her. I say "vulnerability" because I'm never so alone and raw as when I go there. No make-up, no power-dressing, no masks. I'm just "me." It's so freeing. I let others walk passed and see me for who I really am. They are "raw" and real as well.
It's so refreshing. No one is there to out shine another. They're all just doing their thing, and thinking their thoughts, and processing their lives in a very simplistic way. No judgement, no competition, just living the "Salt Life."
3 Comments on Wet Jeans & Sandy Feet, last added: 10/31/2011
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Welcome back! Thank you for sharing this lovely post. I love to visit the ocean. Reading your words made me feel like I was right there.
It's wonderful you found your way back to writing and also have this renewed sense of self.
I love stories like this! Happy writing...:)
Jamie, thank you, so very much! I appreciate you. It's comments like this one, that encourage me to keep on "keeping on."
I will see you soon over at the "Maven's" spot.
xoxo, CJ
I'm SO happy for you! Sand between the toes, the smell of the salt air, sea birds wheeling overhead...In spirit I'm right there beside you.