Noisily, it slid shut, raising my awareness that the automatic van door was slowly approaching death. I sped out of the Montessori school parking lot, hit the red light, and mentally replayed the morning.
Why did the morning seem like such a battle with the kids?
Why was I feeling a brick of heaviness in my chest?
Why did I play on facebook last night instead of doing laundry? The house is a mess and it’s Monday.
I have pending work that trumps the housework! What should I do when I get home? Run, pray, clean house, work, write? After all, I only have three hours.
I could feel the avalanche of self inflicted insults coming down – they would soon bury me. I recognized the pattern and knew I had to get a shovel to plow out of the approaching mental disaster.
I asked myself the questions; What do I need to do for myself ? It was a no-brainer indeed: de-stress… slow down.
Going home and tackling a to-do list, overly focused on productivity was my plan, but I soon realized it was the…
While pondering what to do I heard something with my heart’s ears: “Go to the beach.” I argued with the idea, critiquing my self-indulgent motives, but spontaneously shifted into left lane and onto causeway, heading towards my favorite spot.
I grabbed the empty coffee mug and ran towards the sun that rained sparkles across the water – the sand felt warm and relaxing as the sound of crashing waves stilled my thoughts.
I started to drop beautiful found things in the empty coffee mug. Hurricane Irene made sure the beach was full of treasures.
I prayed, skipped, waded in the water and breathed deeply.
Heading back down the beach I felt like a new woman. The heaviness was gone, I was livelier, healthier and most importantly I had perspective on the day!
The morning was such a healing agent for me that I convinced the whole family to go out after 5 p.m. to collect interesting items. We scoured the crevices of driftwood beach for treasures.
It was just what the doctor ordered.
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