For me, there’s nothing quite like the oceanside. Sitting on its edge watching the sunrise, is my ultimate zen moment. Meditating to the good morning greetings of each white cap, is the perfect way to start my day. I ended it the same way, late last night.
I’ve always felt like the beach is where I belong. Like, in my soul, it’s where I need to be. I know, always is a strong word. I could say, for as long as I can remember I suppose. I started out on the beaches of Brevard County. My dad was stationed at Patrick Air Force Base, then he worked for the space program. It was a cool time to be living there with so much excitement surrounding the space initiative. Not to mention that I Dream of Jeannie somehow made all of my classmates and me feel famous in a very small town. I grew up there until I was 14, then my parents decided to move to Orlando. I’m sure that move has provided me with many benefits through the years, but it also left me with this, addiction, if you will, to be seaside. I get a fix as often as I can.
I don’t know if it’s some weird aging thing (which I’ll deny vehemently) or just opportunity, but lately, I can’t stop thinking about it. Is it time to move to the beach? Can I finally combine my passions of living at the beach and writing? The seagull flying overhead says YES! The sunrise in front of me begs, “we’ll start everyday anew.” The waves crashing on the shore promise to sing me to sleep every night, and be my alarm clock each morning. The sand, surrounding me, offers to stick with me no matter what, literally.
The reasons I had for delaying this dream no longer stand up. My children are grown and living their own lives. I don’t have anyone in my life imposing their wants or needs on me. I’m not bound to a job where locale makes a difference. So why can’t I take the plunge into this new life? I’ve been thinking a lot about that.
I don’t think I’m unlike others who dream about something for so long, then kind of freak out when that dream is within their grasp. See, there it is… Re-al-i-ty. What if, in crossing the dream state into the real state, it’s not all that you’ve hoped for? What if it’s just another part of life with no exclamation point? Will I wake up ten years from now watching yet another sunrise over the ocean in my backyard, and wonder why this was something I dreamt of, or will I be mindful enough to know that I’m living my dream everyday? I’m believing for the latter. And even if the former turns out to be true, how bad can that be?
Peace, love, and sand between your toes…