Last week, I went to visit my grandma in North Carolina. It’s always wonderful to go to the beach; everything just seems to slow to a pace that feels more natural. Sure, some might call it lazy, but lazy seems to work for me.
And it’s not just me. I watched our neighbors mindfully feed a flock of gulls for about half an hour. They ripped small pieces of bread and fed them by hand as they swooped from the sky; that was their big plan for the afternoon. I took a cue from that and adopted the leisurely beach vibe.
I drank green tea from giant, flowery mugs while being embarrassed by grade school photos of myself. I wonder why I don’t wear mustard turtlenecks anymore?
I watched Gracie breathe in the sea air.
I loved my daily moving meditation.
I ate ugly delicious tomatoes from the veggie wagon down the street.
It was a lovely few days, full of stories of my grandma’s days as a newspaper woman and her around-the-world travels with my grandfather. I ditched the To Do List and curled up with my book…which, as often as not, morphed into a nap.
It’s nothing new to talk about peace, simplicity and slowness at the beach. But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.