A vacation without an agenda.
It’s a new thing.
I am not trying to find the perfect gift, rug, shirt, pin, food, experience. Fill in the blank.
I’m sinking down into myself; that’s actually how it feels. It doesn’t feel as scary as it used to feel, to be alone with only my own thoughts and desires that don’t revolve around others.
The Mary Oliver poem, The Journey, ends like this:
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice,
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do —
determined to save
the only life you could save.
I am not the only one fighting to live my own life.
The desire to love others pulls me (still). The desire to fix or supplement others compelled me (diminishing).
Now, I only want to lay here and listen to the cricket song w/ the ocean pounding in the background. I am not ready to say good-bye to the beach, to the water, waves, the place where they sky meets the ocean. I’m not ready.
Quick cricket, do you hear that bird? You are telling her where you are. Come hide w/ me and we’ll go home together. Can you bring too the sea grass that’s your home, the salty air and wind that has bent all the reeds?
Gone is my fire to change the world, task by task, that took away my peace. I want to watch the gulls skim the surf, watch pelicans in order together, fly high, drop, and bring up their dinner.
*****
I picked blackberries in earnest ten years ago when we were here with our camper. We picked berries near the campground and made a cobbler at the house where friends were staying. We ate it all with our dinner.
Today I went down to the beach with a white colander and worked my way slowly through a few dozen bushes. My clothes got snagged, my fingers pricked and stung, my colander full. I didn’t have headphones.
I just worked and listened to the surf.
*****
Tonight we went to dinner in Astoria. We checked out Buoy Beer which is basically on the water, even more so than Rogue which is also in an old warehouse and on a pier. How cool is that?? Amazing views of the river and yeah, it’s all just too much.
After that, we headed to the jetty and watched the sunset. Came home and did a tiny bit of packing, but not enough to ruin a vacation vibe. Sat outside and watched the stars come out, listened to crickets and grasshoppers. Smoked a tiny cigar.
The crickets and grasshoppers are interesting. One will start and sometimes be alone for a long time, maybe indefinitely. If he’s lucky, others will join. When one starts up, the lead grasshopper will stop for a bit, then they’ll all start up again. Tonight, there ended up being a chorus for a while of what sounded like many singers.
They’d been there all along, right…?
They were just waiting for something.
The right time to start? The right temperature? The right light?
I kindof think they were waiting for a leader, someone to start, so that they could join.
What can we learn from nature?
Everything.
*****
When I was picking berries, I asked myself that: what could I learn right now? I’m immersed in nature. Thoughts that came back:
Often good things are tucked in with thorns
Beauty isn’t always obvious
Sometimes beauty is right there and you still don’t see it
Watch and observe
What does this mean for me? Especially in picking berries, I was reminded of how hard it can be to get and find good things. That’s a pretty well-established life and wisdom teaching. I was exposed to and went searching for knowledge that spoke to that. I’m grateful for some of the pain I was spared as a result.
I can’t remember a vacation I was this relaxed. I am not ready tonight to leave, but will trust it will take me back to what I need to do at home.