October 4, 2010
I got in the car and wondered where I was going. Funny really, because I was the driver. My car drove to the bay where this picture was taken 7 years prior. Seven years. How this girl has changed. How her mother has changed. In seven years, every cell in our bodies has regenerated. Every bit of my physical being is different.
I sat on the rocks an listened to the gentle waves glide in and out like breathe. Years ago, this is where I spent my days. Memories of the afternoons with two young children flooded back. Hours, just being, just climbing, just exploring. The tide pools seem unchanged, the girls and their mother are not.
I looked up and could see my former home. My former self. When I was a married woman, with two children, two cars, a mortgage, life insurance, a parent volunteer and a Sunday school teacher. I was the epitome of society. I was a success, I had a Tupperware party, I had a book club, I was normal. We almost managed to fool the world, two perfect blonde girls, best friend banter. We almost managed to fool ourselves. If we could have kept the realities of our marriage a secret until death, the facade would still stand. But that is a book, not a blog.
This day I noticed this tranquil bay is directly in-between my old home and my next home. Meandering paths leading to opposite directions from the place I sat. A transition. This beach was my catalyst to my next home, my next life. The path led away and up to a small home on a magnificent cliff. My simple little dolls house for girls only. We had front row seats to the most colorful sunrises and sunsets. We would dance. It felt sacrilegious to ignore the beauty. We were in its spotlight. A place so magical, if I ran off the cliff, I could surely fly.
It was there in that magical place that I gave birth to another child. A place where I told her father that I loved him and myself too much to marry. A place where I decided that honesty was more important than image.
I found myself at this bay, a different person physically, spiritually and circumstantially. I feel blessed and grateful for the turns in my life, for my children, for my travels, for my journey. I wonder what’s next. I look forward to my next incarnation. But in the meantime, I sat in the sun, a gentle breeze through my hair, birds and waves, and honored this place and how it served me.