the beach of me

Traveling. Today when I was watching this chick flick that was set in London, I thought, I thought, it has been awhile since I have been traveling. It’s been awhile. Now I don’t usually watch chick flicks on Mondays, but since it was my day off I decided to partake in junk food for my mind and body. I also had lots of chips, fours types, some baked some not, some pickles, and some dark chocolate. All you have to do is add ice cream and maybe you might think I was pregnant. I am not. At least I don’t think so. I just had a conversation about this with a friend, my friend about babies, pregnancy and how we spend our lives trying not to make them and one day we will decide it’s time and then we will try, we will try and no one really knows what will happen.

Traveling for me. Is freedom. It is the escape. It doesn’t even have to be that far. I sometimes feel like I am traveling when I leave my neighborhood or one where I work and play mostly. Like today, I found a café in a neighborhood, I never go to, to write. To travel away out of the norm, a vacation of an hour. When I go to the beach, I feel like I am traveling, traveling far away. Just left to my own thoughts and simplicity of nothingness. I didn’t realize what the beach meant to me until it was taken from me. I abruptly awoke one morning and it was no longer a ten-minute drive, or a 45-minute drive. Okay I did move to the other coast. It would take hours and once I would arrive I wasn’t welcomed by the solitude of the waves, the radio of my peace, no it was a lake with ripples. The east coast beaches left much for me to desire.

I used to travel to the beach with my parents. My parents met at the beach, pt. reyes to be exact. Whenever anyone talks about pt. reyes and it’s beauty, I say, that is why I am here. Maybe that is why I like traveling there so much. Once when my parents were long and finished, my dad took me to a spot, he used to go with my mother before me and after me, and then just me and him, and then me, him, my brother, and stepmom. The great thing about this spot is that it is a lagoon, a lagoon that allows you to swim and not fear sharks, or undertow, or coldness. Just calm enough for a swim. As we hiked there, we hiked there together, we took pictures there, and did my favorite thing swim until cold or tired, back to the beach, to eat and cook on the sand and repeat. Repeat. One day I found photos, photos when it was just my mom and dad, I laughed at their funny bathing suits and their skinniness and for the lightness that once was. Traveling back to a time, a time when it had just started for them, that would eventually lead to me. Traveling back to the beach to the beginning, again, and again.