My time at the ocean is drawing to a close. This will be my last post from my hermitage by the sea. As with most things in life, it's from a distance that the story will begin to reveal itself. I'm so grateful for the opportunity I've had to see life from a fresh perspective, to listen to the sea, to stay present to each day and what it offered. Large lessons have been learned and I look forward to seeing what will be revealed to me as I move forward.
When I first arrived in Maine, about six weeks ago, I thought perhaps I would stay, explore my life from this new place. As the weeks unfolded, I knew that would not be the case, that my time here was limited. Last summer, while still living in Santa Fe, I returned home to Minnesota for a visit. Shortly after arriving, I knew, with a deep inner knowing, that I was to return to Minnesota, the land of my childhood. I was to put down roots and make a life there. But, before I could do that, I apparently had unfinished business I needed to attend to. Unfinished business with myself. I needed to gain a greater sense of peace, to discover my center, to learn to put my whole self in my life; riding fences would no longer cut it. It simply wouldn't be allowed. I had to move forward on a sure basis. I cannot imagine having a more perfect place from which to do this.
I'm going to miss falling asleep to the sound of the waves against the shore, and the train, the Downeaster, passing through, just a couple of blocks away. Waking up to the sun glinting off the water, brewing morning coffee, then sitting down to write at the kitchen window that overlooks the ocean. Nothing but sky and ocean for thousands of miles.
It's been wonderful.
But, I've been getting that prompting, that inner knowing, that it's time to return to Minnesota. I'm anxious to get my hands in the earth, to garden, to plant flowers, to find a chunk of land and carve out a life, a more self-reliant life, that speaks to my truest self. Perhaps something akin to my farmhouse in Ansel but smaller, more efficient. A New Ansel. That sounds good. Very good. We shall see what unfolds.
While walking on the beach a couple of weeks ago, I saw two words written in the sand. You might recall my previous post in which I found letters in the sand spelling "Love is Beautiful," just down the beach a ways, and posted a photo of it. This time, I stopped to read, but was too preoccupied to pay full attention. It was not until an hour or so later that I knew I had to go back down and see if the letters were still there. I wanted to photograph them. They were large letters, so I wouldn't miss them. They were there. It took two photos. These were the two words: