amazing food. beach walks at night barefoot on the cold, wet sand, holding hands with the man as we watched men dig for clams by headlight. mornings being lazy and reading my book while sipping on coffee. hugs. laughter. family. love. resetting my body clock. taking a run Thanksgiving morning. treating myself to a mini-shopping spree at the outlets. enjoying the drive. enjoying being in love with a wonderful man.
Ever since I was little, I felt that there was something magical about being close the ocean. Growing up in Maine, summers meant days at the beach, sandcastles, and bodysurfing. I have always dreamed of living in an ocean cottage or bungalow style home, spending my days teaching yoga and writing, with the occasional run and swim. Cooking meals of pasta, seafood, salads, and warm bread with a bottle of wine. Living in cozy sweaters and yoga pants and Uggs during the winter, and board shorts and tank tops and flip flops in the summer. Riding a "townie" style bike into town to get my mail and pick up groceries including beer and hard cider. Having a little garden where I could sit and look out from my Adirondack chair. Being cozy while winter storms whipped at the windows. Staying out way too late in the summer eating ice cream and going to movies.
On our drive back to Seattle, I thought about that dream. I thought seriously about it. What it wold take. Writing it all down paints a picture not about the ocean, but about simplicity. About the small things that are indeed the biggest, most important things in the world for me. I guess you could call this my essence. The core of what makes me grin. It's not the beach now. It's life in a dreary city 9 months out of the year. But my mini-vacation brought me back to this essence and I am happy for that.