A Most Unusual Day At The Beach
Posted: Saturday, January 14, 2012
by Jennifer Stewart
Stepping out of History
I had an exceptionally unusual day today. It started out pretty much like any day. I woke up, fell back to sleep again, woke up, fell out of bed, shuffled through to the kitchen to make toast and coffee. Opened the curtains to let the day in.
I put my coffee and toast on a tray and clambered back into bed, with a crossword, oh luxury of luxuries. I just love starting my day like this. Then my phone rang. I leaped out of bed to get it, and it was an sms from my brother. “We’re at the beach, come and swim”.
Hmm. I looked longingly at my coffee and unfinished crossword. I wrestled with what has become, over the last ten years, a habitual and instinctive response to invitations from people. I’ve always just said no. Didn’t want to be out in the world, didn’t want to risk getting hurt again. Didn’t want to be taken out of my comfort zone.
But something has been happening lately. Thrust back into contact with my family, I’ve found that I’m a different person from who I was ten years ago, when I withdrew. I have more confidence, I know I belong in the world, I have my own particular space as much as anybody does. I’m not ashamed of myself, and I’m better at being honest and dealing with my emotions.
My siblings have changed as well. They pretty much have achieved the same thing. And the difference for all of us between then and now has somehow forged a bridge between us. One that allows for understanding and healing, and for love to flow in a way that it actually never has before.
So this morning when I got that sms I said to myself just do it. Say yes. It seems such a small thing, doesn’t it, to go and spend a morning with your siblings and some of their children at the beach. It’s not a small thing for me. It was scary, and exciting and it filled my day with a sense of how special life is, and that mine is opening up in ways that quite make my heart want to burst.
It was exceptionally beautiful at the beach. Blue sky, clear blue-green water, hardly any waves, as calm as calm could be. The tide was out, so the white sand went on forever. A tiny little bay right at the edge of Africa. I’ve been to that beach so often in the past three years, always on my own, always watching families and friends playing, hanging out. Always wondering what it would be like if I could have that too. Sick of being alone, bored with my own company, dying to play with somebody, scared to reach out.
Today the miracle happened. I chatted with my sister and her husband, and my sister in law. Swam with my brother. Played in the sand with my niece – who is the spitting image of me when I was a child. She even has the same kind of nature, it’s extraordinary.
We had so much fun. I don’t have words for this. These sound like such simple things, but how do you describe what it feels like to laugh and play and connect and love?
Those simple words will have to do. I came home, had a shower, made another cup of coffee and sat down with the crossword again, but my whole being was just humming, so I played piano instead, the energy pouring out of me, fingers flying, heart laughing.
Now the day is drawing to a close. The sun is low on the horizon, just catching a lighthouse across the bay, a few sultry seagulls mooch about, winging this way and that. I think about how everything in my life has led me to this incredible day. Just another ordinary day at the beach? Not by a long way. Just the first day of the rest of my life.
I put my coffee and toast on a tray and clambered back into bed, with a crossword, oh luxury of luxuries. I just love starting my day like this. Then my phone rang. I leaped out of bed to get it, and it was an sms from my brother. “We’re at the beach, come and swim”.
But something has been happening lately. Thrust back into contact with my family, I’ve found that I’m a different person from who I was ten years ago, when I withdrew. I have more confidence, I know I belong in the world, I have my own particular space as much as anybody does. I’m not ashamed of myself, and I’m better at being honest and dealing with my emotions.
My siblings have changed as well. They pretty much have achieved the same thing. And the difference for all of us between then and now has somehow forged a bridge between us. One that allows for understanding and healing, and for love to flow in a way that it actually never has before.
So this morning when I got that sms I said to myself just do it. Say yes. It seems such a small thing, doesn’t it, to go and spend a morning with your siblings and some of their children at the beach. It’s not a small thing for me. It was scary, and exciting and it filled my day with a sense of how special life is, and that mine is opening up in ways that quite make my heart want to burst.
It was exceptionally beautiful at the beach. Blue sky, clear blue-green water, hardly any waves, as calm as calm could be. The tide was out, so the white sand went on forever. A tiny little bay right at the edge of Africa. I’ve been to that beach so often in the past three years, always on my own, always watching families and friends playing, hanging out. Always wondering what it would be like if I could have that too. Sick of being alone, bored with my own company, dying to play with somebody, scared to reach out.
Today the miracle happened. I chatted with my sister and her husband, and my sister in law. Swam with my brother. Played in the sand with my niece – who is the spitting image of me when I was a child. She even has the same kind of nature, it’s extraordinary.
“These sound like such simple things, but how do you describe what it feels like to laugh and play and connect and love?”
Those simple words will have to do. I came home, had a shower, made another cup of coffee and sat down with the crossword again, but my whole being was just humming, so I played piano instead, the energy pouring out of me, fingers flying, heart laughing.
Now the day is drawing to a close. The sun is low on the horizon, just catching a lighthouse across the bay, a few sultry seagulls mooch about, winging this way and that. I think about how everything in my life has led me to this incredible day. Just another ordinary day at the beach? Not by a long way. Just the first day of the rest of my life.
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Top-level comments on this article: (7 total)Hi Jennifer thanks for sharing. The toss up was hard because I too love crosswords and coffee, however I love the sea also. I think in my case I'd have brought the crossword book to the beach with me and found a quiet place to think of the answers. I say this because I have 4 brothers who I see every day and if they asked me along for a swim, they would more than likely be asking me along just to throw me in...thats brothers for you.
Keep well
KacyHi Kacy, wow, four brothers, I'm glad I've only got one, but also that he doesn't do that stuff! The thing about leaving the crossword was that it was divine to get back to!Hi Jennifer those 4 brothers of mine, regardless of size, believe me, would think twice before attempting to throw me in, especially if I didnt finish the crossword lol .
Being upset with relatives is common. What is upsetting and, in my opinion, irrational is when some relatives decide to cut communications and generate a silence that hurts everybody. Your article, that I enjoyed reading, brought a lot of memories. Good job!Thanks for commenting, Nestor. I hear what you're saying about the silence hurting everybody, but sometimes a family member has to take their space because they aren't being respected. Then when they cut communications they get blamed because nobody in the family wants to acknowledge the part that they've played.
Jen, It sounds like you have reached much peace and happiness with your family and yourself. I love the way you always "put yourself out there" in order to give your writing authenticity.
I think we both are alike in so many ways. When someone asks me to do something or go somewhere, my first response is usually "no." However, I am getting better.Thanks, Fran. I'm finding it so much easier to hold onto myself when I'm with them. It still gets challenging sometimes, but it's clearer now that those challenges are about my own insecurities, and I can take that to therapy.
Somehow it's comforting to me that I'm not the only one who says "no" :) I agree, we are alike in so many ways.
Sounds fabulous and thanks for sharing. I love to walk on the beach and watch the seagulls along the Atlantic here.The other side of that great ocean! Where do you live?
How joyful, introspective, reaching for new heights with ordinary people and topics. Lovely indeed.Beautiful comment, Christofer, as always, thanks.
"but my whole being was just humming" - Love that line. I love this whole article. (It's been such a long time since I've read your words. It's great to be back!)
You are so brave for sharing these feelings. I can relate to everything you wrote. These are magical moments when connections that have been a long time coming, suddenly are being realized. How beautiful. Thank you so much. I'm running over to your blog now to check it out!!!Hi Liesl, it's great to see you back, I love your passion, you're so alive :)Thank you Jennifer! That is such a nice compliment. I'm off to start my day now with a big smile!
I love this piece and i love how much u have grown. Its amazing. When i read this i felt this ball of warmth build inside me... Its just beautiful. And i hope u have many more such daysHey, Tharuna, thanks. I feel like a completely different person from when we were on that course... Are you back? I'm dying to hear about your trip. I'm going to see if you posted anything here.I can see that, and its great. yip. im still recovering so havent written anything here yet nor have i sorted out my blog... will be up soon:) its my first day bk at work and im dyin lolGaaahh!lol :)
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