HOME!

 

Yep, that's where I am.  Right there.

I drove in from the airport - a 3ish hour drive - and as I approached the tall highway 101 bridge driving into North Bend I started feeling simply giddy.

I drove through Coos Bay, seeing the same things that I do when I go through, and yet even in ten days there were a few changes. 

But the best bit is when I drove into my small town. 

The cheese factory that is going in has been framed in and sheathed, which is so exciting for me (and my small business).

My beloved beach was still there, still perfect.

And it's home.  Driving up to this place, I was just giddy with that knowledge.

This is my home in a way that no other place I've been has been MY home.

It's my solace, my enticement.  This place loves me, who I am works here.

I am so very glad to find the place in the world where I am home.

I don't know what it is about this place that makes me so thrilled, but it does, and I am... home, home, home, home, HOME!

Christmastime, growth, gifts and a gentle ass-kicking

Sadly, I am traveling for Christmas.  Sadly, because I didn't bring my camera and because I am not on my blessed beach.  So, there will be no photos for today's post.  It'll likely be a short one, but for me anyway, important.

I'm surprised this trip at how ok I am.  I thought coming back here would be harder, that there would be more tears and more sadness, but I think I've been able to work through much of the grief at home where I feel safe to let my guard down and mourn.  This trip was both about an ending - a letting go - and connection with friends and family.

I've been so blessed with, as one friend calls it, my collection of people.  I am a person who seeks people out for their gifts, and because we connect on that level, no matter how far apart we are or how long it's been since we have been able to spend face-to-face time together, it's easy and relaxed.  This week, because I journeyed back to the place I was born and raised and spent a large portion of my life, I got to see a few of my people connection... and what a huge blessing it was for me.

I met up with an old flame this week.  We had coffee (or in his case, chai) and talked for nearly three hours, and there may or may not have been a kiss.  Isn't it funny that after 25 years that you can reconnect with someone like there was no time at all?  While the kiss was lovely and exciting, I think both he and I would agree that it was simply that, a kiss, and not something either of us will get too het up about - but as my friend C says, "Good, you got that out of the way, now you can connect with someone who might be more in the picture for you."  I'm sure that my old flame and I will continue to communicate, and that's fine with me - there is still friendship to be shared there but likely nothing more.

Another dear friend and I were able to sit and talk over a really great breakfast (incidentally, if you want the way to this foodie's heart?  breakfast - every time.)  She and I have been friends for so long and so closely, it's like putting on your favorite pair of shoes when we get to spend a few hours alone.  Very few people 'get' me like she does, our gifts and personalities balance each other so well, she brings me no shortage of joy. 

She is a crusader.  Had she been born a man, I think life would have been infinitely easier.  As it is, my dear friend struggles with her place in life.  Well, that's not entirely true - she is exceptionally great at being who she is.  What she struggles with is other's acceptance of her gifts.

I'm easy, I'm loving - a salve to the hurting - a comfort and an exhorter.  These gifts are welcomed in women, loving people is something we expect of the femme.  But a crusader and a woman?  Christian culture (where she works and operates) does not find these two concepts comforting and regularly rejects the pairing.  Men in general, let alone those in Christian culture, typically don't like women to wield the machete and hack through the thick underbrush of thought, reason, and Biblical exegesis.  Alas, thusly she was gifted so thusly she walks and thusly she is - for lack of a better word, persecuted.

The persecution has been subtle and constant: rolled eyes, pushing her to the background, tamping of her fire.  Even if you are very strong, those things batter you, take the wind from your sails, and grind you down till you see yourself as wrong and broken. 

There are few who can speak into your life and tell you that your difficult for other's gifts are beneficial, and those voices have to be loud and persistent.  With the latter, I've been remiss.  I will commit to you - my longest living intimate and dear friend - to be persistent. Who you are is more than good enough.  What you bring is necessary, even if it isn't appreciated overtly.  We are both like water in our way.  The things we bring aren't always for the moment.  The influence we bring puddles and lingers, wearing away at resistance to truth.  The things that are difficult for others are my favorite things about you.  May your light and influence be appreciated now and in this lifetime.  But if it isn't?  DO NOT STOP BEING YOU, not ever... not for a moment. 

Thank you so much for being the bold, fire-y, pain-in-the-ass that you are.  I love you.

To the rest of you, thanks for reading this far... and Merry Christmas!!

Out of Step

I walked half of the South Jetty with my dear friend, L today.  I am not used to her pace, nor she mine.  I am not a meanderer, but my gate is longer and more fluid... and I walk slower.  I suppose part of it was nearly 15 years of walking with a photographer who was a foot taller then I.  The walk, while nice (and chilly) felt out of step.

 Add to that, the South Jetty was littered with a whole mess of logs and natural debris.  This is my heart right now.  I'm a mess.  The scab pulling has affected me so much more than I expected.  I suppose it is because I have a lot of baggage - this week is only 8 months.  Maybe my cautious friend is right to back away slowly.  Though there are a many reasons one does not want to get involved again, it still hurt to find out after weeks of patient and kind attention one isn't the object of affection.  My friend L is impatient with me to move on, to be open to something or someone better.  The truth is, I've got  a few things to work out, and in my secret heart, I want him to realize that he is wrong and come calling.  I don't think this likely, but it is still my wish.

 It will be awhile yet before I am wholy myself.  I won't stop living, nor stop enjoying things in my life, but I will cry over this loss too.  Loss of potential, loss of a hope, loss of a maybe friend.

Be Brave, Be Safe. Take Care.

 This shot is looking over to the North Jetty and Bullard's Beach beyond and the one below is the Coquille River Lighthouse.  Sometime soon I'll go and shoot the North Jetty/Bullard's, but for now, this is what saw when I walked up to the top of the South Jetty.  So pretty!

 I've been thinking about bravery in the last few weeks.  I get told that I am brave quite a bit.  I suppose that after a fashion I am... if the definition of bravery is being scared and acting anyway.  I am moving on in my life after my husband's death, but don't feel very brave often, I'm scared a lot.  Along with all the other stuff that happened, I lost my best friend in the world - the human I could tell anything to, and I miss him, but I have to keep going - right?

 I don't feel very brave when I move forward in life.  I feel resigned.  I know I can't just say *here* because here doesn't exist.  Much like the beach, here changes almost constantly.  Stuff moves in and out like the sands and the trees and the tide... people, opportunities, etc.

 Often, stuff doesn't work out the way you hope and sometimes your heart get squashed a bit, and sometimes it gets downright broken.  I'm told it's brave to want to try again, to open yourself up to someone or something new.  I don't know if it is, I don't know any other way. I'm not willing to hide away because it's painful.  I know I take risks - I'm an adventuresome woman.

 Sometimes I do stupid stuff because I've never gone that way before.  The low tide was +3 feet today, and I like to walk at low tide, but I had not woken up early enough to meet it (and it was raining) so I went a few hours past the low, when the surf was making it's way up the beach.  The moon was full a few days ago brought the tide up high and with it a lot of trees, and a lot of sand.

 As I was walking, and (honestly) dodging the waves and sometimes stumps in the water I walked not quite half way down the beach and realized that this was probably unsafe for me.  For all of it's beauty, this really wasn't safe to be out alone.  If something happened, there'd be no way for me to get help enough in time and I could get hurt.  I had a strong intuition that this was a possibility.

 So, I packed up and started walking back up the beach.  I'm reminded that even though taking a risk often feels safe to me, the road less travelled and all, it's maybe not the safest for everyone.

 Like this cute little snowy plover, sometimes you get pretty battered, and it's safer to find a nest and and hide away.  You have to figure out what is the safest thing for yourself.

I licked my wounds for a bit, and I'm still recovering from the rough seas from earlier this year, it takes a bit for things to calm down and for the cleanup to happen.  I'm in the middle of this awkward process of being adventuresome again. 

So, I took a risk.  I fell a little for someone who showed some interest.  I got my heart squished a bit.  It's not broken like it was when my husband died, but the scab got pulled on a bit and yeah, it's bleeding a little. 

 Sometimes when we are careful, it hurts worse than when we are adventurous - like a broken bone poorly set, sometimes you need to be broken again so you can set properly.  I know people who chose not to have those bones re-broken - the fear of the pain of that event, despite the eventual benefits, are more than they chose to experience.  It's an acceptable way to live, but again, not something that is for me.  I hope that people who hide themselves away get what they need out of life.

 So, here was my thinking bench today, out of range of the surging surf.  I was not going to get squashed by a log here - and I understand the benefit of being away from the adventuresome stuff - the benefits of not taking all of the risks.