The Healing Power of Water

Life is one beautiful trip.

I cannot believe we get to sleep on the beach.

Coming to the ocean has always been my refuge, my solace. When Griffin was little, we would pack up the Subaru wagon at 4:00 in the morning and head for The Outer Banks. Arriving way too early to check into a motel, we’d grab a quick nap in the back of the car, change into our suits, and head down to the beach.

When Griffin became a teen, we still took off on impromptu beach weekends. It was during one of these pilgrimages that we both decided to get pierced. An ear for Griffin, the nose for me. Mother/son bonding at its finest, followed by celebratory Cokes at a raw bar.

It was to the ocean that Griffin drove me to heal/be/release after Darryl died. We parked along the road on Sullivan’s Island, SC at midnight and found our way down to the beach by the light of the moon. We stood there in silence, arms around each other, looking at the moon, and let the tears flow.

Found this in front of our campsite. I'm too short to get the whole thing in the shot.

Joelle and I find ourselves at Point Mugu, in Malibu, California, and we are ecstatic we can camp right on the beach. This is peak.

Night falls

Tucked into the top bunk of Steady Betty, window flaps unzipped, there is enough light to see the waves lapping at the rocky beach, just feet in front of me. I sleep to the sounds of the rhythmic surf. These are the sounds and rhythms of Mother Earth. Rocking me to sleep. Soothing my soul. We are tiny beings in a grand and infinitely beautiful universe. Happiness and joy explode from my heart to join with the stars in the indigo sky.