I escaped to the ocean for a few days on my own. The type of trip I’ve taken many times over the last decade to be contemplative, in nature, and alone. Often some of my favorite times. The last one I did was April 2010 when I went to Seattle. A big mistake, at least as it related to meeting up with an old college friend. I haven’t heard from him since. Sobbing your way through coffee after 7 hours together and meeting his wife for the first time...not exactly a winning social move. Looking back, attempting such a demanding effort at 4 months out was just dumb. Way too early for ‘new’ people or renewing friendships. But oh how we push ourselves to be ‘back’.
Anyway. This trip was better, the incessant rain befitting of my mood, and I got an afternoon of sunshine just long enough to appreciate what a blue sky can do for an ocean and to capture the above sunset. Mmmm. (On my iPhone, by the way. I hate to admit how much I love that thing.)
That morning I stood above the crashing waves a few miles away and realized that the essence of me isn’t, hasn’t really been around. For those familiar with the phrase, I’ve not been “in my body.” Not grounded. (It’s an energy work thing. Just trust me. I know when I’m in, how far I’m in, the difference between fully in and out, and it is profound. When ‘in’ I’m suddenly wearing a lead suit. Heavy and so weird!) But they say it’s better to be fully present, so I spend many minutes pulling myself back in. It only took about 3 minutes to begin crying once I’d landed. Ahh...when you’re in, you feel. No small wonder I’m outta here.
The second thing I realized is that somewhere along the way I made a decision not to re-engage in my life until there is a child in it. I will not enjoy it, I will not seek anything that makes me happy, I will not consider participating in any activity for the sake of simple pleasure. Productive, huh? Mature too. Since then I’ve been noticing all the ways I’m choosing to be a child. Maybe not all the ways - I’m sure there are more than I’m acknowledging. So I’m a 42 year old woman having a 3 year old’s tantrum. “I want this I want this I want this I want this and anything else is NOT good enough!!!!” Cue stamping feet and pounding fists and the crumpled wailing face to the heavens. Trouble is, being aware is not the same as changing, for you have to be willing to change. And I don’t know if I am yet. (Yet another mature decision.) Brad told me I don’t have to give up tantrum-ing altogether, but maybe I don’t have to do it all the time.
They say the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. So I admit I’m being a child. We’ll see where it leads....but don’t get your hopes up just yet. I’m a slow learner.
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