On Restriction

Missing the Mendocino Coast
Today, a flood of emotion. Feelings of loss. Grieving for those who are losing loved ones, their livelihood,  their friends,  their community,  dreams on hold, not feeling the touch of another.

Also, hope for change. For those of us who have not been following our dreams and visions.  A chance to break free and go for it.

If you are alive, it's not too late.

I miss the coast. I miss the sea. I miss our retreat on the mendocino coast where the innkeeper told us, "relax, we are here to take care of you." I splurged my last bit of savings that weekend that seemed so long ago. No regrets.

My partner and I listen to music. On our bed. Sequestered in our room. We listen to Thelonious Monk, Steve Winwood, Grateful Dead, and jazz, lots of jazz.

We stare up at the ceiling, feeling the music,  we talk, we dream of future trips, and make evaporating plans. I turn to my partner,  "it feels like we are teenagers on restriction".

I don't want to count the days of shelter in. I am burnt on the news.  I will find a way to go deeper, to dig up the real and be as true to myself as I can be.

I won't lose heart.

When, I touch the sand, taste the salt air, and take in the vast blue sea. I will know I have reached the other side.