I feel like I’m spending a lot of time writing about difficulties in my life lately. Maybe it’s just me, maybe it’s just that my head is filled with those tough things right now. But I feel a bit tired of finding myself in front of my laptop to write about struggle, though at least this story has a happy ending.
The last few weeks have been difficult for many reasons, and the negative energy I’m sure I’ve been spreading all over my home is effecting everyone now, not just me. I needed to get out of my own head and out of my family’s way to bad I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin. So I took off.
E. was in school, M. with my husband, so I was free. I knew I needed to be at the ocean and somewhere I felt comfortable and knew my way to and around. I drove nearly an hour and a half south to Fort Williams Park in Cape Elizabeth and felt like I was breathing for the first time in weeks when I got out of my car.
It’s a pretty popular place to go and it was busy for the middle of an early spring work day. I didn’t mind. I didn’t care. I was so blissed out at being by myself, on the water, walking among plants that were starting to get their earliest tints of green (our yard is still very brown) that I could have walked through a crowd of nudists and wouldn’t have noticed or cared.
I dipped my toes in the frigid water.
I collected rocks.
I watched boats come to and leave Portland.
I climbed up and down rocks.
I smiled at dogs and happily made limited eye contact with their owners.
I walked and walked and walked, thinking about nothing and everything.
I sat on the shore and breathed and breathed and breathed.
I had needed this so badly, and while I’ve come home and am still feeling just a bit too stretched out and frazzled, I don’t think I’m going to scream. I feel more in my body, not floating somewhere just above, afraid that if I let go, I might be blown away.