It’s been almost a week since I returned from our beach vacation and I miss my walks already. While at home, I walk around town almost every day, but it’s different, you know?
There are so many different kinds of walks.
The Power Walk.
The Cat Walk.
The John Travolta-I-just-gotta-Strut-Walk.
And the Beach Walk.
But I I call it the Soul Walk!
When I’m on my beach walk, I can’t hide from myself. Or other people.
Or agendas. Motives. Demands.
It’s just me and my thoughts.
It is during those walks I feel the most vulnerable.
I think about mistakes I’ve made. Words I wish I hadn’t spoken. Things I wish I had the courage to do. Say. Be.
I think about the many times I’ve fallen short of becoming the woman I aspire to be….
….all the while consciously aware of the tide rolling in, settling in like a cool puddle of encouragement around my feet.
Over and over again.
Its sycopated rhythm never missing a beat.
Nonjudgmental about whether the waves were better or less than the ones before.
Reminding me that each day. Each hour.
Each moment is an opportunity to begin again.
And that acknowledgment almost moves me to tears with hope and optimism.
During this morning’s read, I happened across the most beautiful words by Mary Oliver in her book Long Life. It captured the essence of what I feel in my heart during my precious beach walks.
“Once, years ago, I emerged from my walk in the early morning — it was the most casual of moments–pouring down sunlight, I experienced a sudden impact, a seizure of happiness. It was not the drowning sort of happiness, rather the floating sort. I made no struggle toward it; it was given. Time seemed to vanish. Urgency vanished. Any important difference between myself and all other things vanished. I knew that I belonged to the world and felt comfortably my own containment in the totality.”
May today bring you that kind of joy.
Beach walk joy!
A “seizure of happiness.”