Journal Entry: May 21, 2017

I woke up at 7:30 a.m. Normal for these days. Seems the older I get the earlier I want to rise, even on a Sunday. Maybe that's because my life feels more precious as each day passes, or as I have more recently realized, this life I roam around in gets more exploratory and curious as said days roll by.

So, I check in with myself: "Girl? What you want to do today? It is ALL yours after all."
Me: "I want to go have a good cup of tea, sip it while sitting outside in this fog, and then have a good  walk on the shore."
Me: "Done! GO!"

I hit the house kettle for a pre-cuppa before I officially decide anything else, and at the same time I reluctantly decide to get in the shower. My bed head also seems more exploratory and curious these days too, so even though I could have skipped the shower alltogether, I thought I needed to present myself at least for the seagulls I would likely see on my shore walk. I dressed, put on my sweatshirt and threw on my down black Patagonia vest over it. Perfect combo of warmth guaranteed.

I got in my car at 8:30. Driving was dreamlike in the soupy fog that sets in on the mornings here during late Spring early Summer at the ocean side. I also knew that inland would be hot today and that the crowds would be making their way out to the shore by noon latest, so I wanted to be out there on the still quiet roads and shores before then. Truth be told: I have always liked the ocean to myself.

The Aquatica Cafe in Jenner is the perfect sleepy Sunday morning destination. The music and scene inside the rustic funky hipster-milinial employed shoppe offers a Nor-Sonoco-Cal greeting that can't be matched. It's laid back, chill, and subtly energized. It was the Beatles playing this morning, and although I am not a fan, Good Day Sunshine seemed to work for the overall vibe that was happening through the fog. I had loose leaf Earl Grey with cream, and sat in the two seater wood chair out by the mouth of the Russian River. I closed my eyes and breathed in several times. The smell was a blend of the mouth of a river and  fresh salt, and I felt like I was still in bed.

A good handful of kayakers were already prepping to put in just at the waters edge near to where I sat, and the colorful oranges and greens of the gliding narrow boats looked like anxious sea creatures waiting to cruise to the grey blue surface. Various people wearing Tevas and Keens with dirt laden feet walked along the deck of the cafe and I realized I never did look up at their faces. I imagined them having camped in tents close by, awakening to the sound of the waves, rising and feeling open and Earthy and ready for the communion of a day on the water.

I sat for an hour there in that chair. I just sat, listening to the hum of conversations, watching feet, and thinking of not much at all. This I decided, was the perfect way to start a day. I felt I had slept on the Earth as well, which I equated as the reason for lack of thought. My favorite quote kept rolling through me....."Empty the mind of all thought, let your heart be at peace", but that wasn't a thought as much as a reminder.

I arrived at South Goat Rock and there was nothing but that fog and the sound of waves to greet me.  As I walked, I stumbled upon the ebb and flow of those waves moving through the larger mounds of pebbles that collected on the shore. That is by far one of my favorite sounds to experience. It can't be sufficiently compared to any other sound. It's it's own sound. I suddenly wanted to lay down on the pebbles and let the waves roll over me too. I wanted to be one with, and then finally become that sound. That sound. But I kept walking and asked "What sound am I?" That was my question.

Such questions only come while walking the shore. Questions and songs actually. There's a rhythm that aligns in me when I am being with the sea. We came from the water, and therefore we know it in our molecules and cells. It's unmistakable. You just gotta listen to yourself closely. Waves moving, my body moving, pebbles shifting, my feet stepping, sea-birds floating, my mind emptying. Rhythm.

I decide to record the "waves through pebbles" sound so I can fall asleep to it tonight, and every night I want to become that sound. Chosen perfection is always available.

Then I came home and stacked wood, made food for the week, did some laundry, made a small batch of fruity sangria which I am sipping as I write and listen to some kick ass Thievery Corporation jams. Along with that, there's also the delicious wafting scent drifting through the house of the sweet and gold potato chips I'm baking in the oven.

Best of all, the long time sun is still high in the now warm blue sky, and I want to lavish throughout the dusk into the dark. I could do this day 100 times in a row. This is life. This is the exploration of the curious soul I call SELF.