so i golfed yesterday
and may today instead of going to the beach — whaaat? Yes, something’s shifting, becoming clearer. Perhaps it’s my age, although THAT is not shifting or clearing but adding up. Well, perhaps that’s exactly what is creating the movement in me.
i wondered two years ago:
how many summers do I have left? Then: how many beach days? Staggeringly little. I obviously don’t know how many, yet for sure less than I’d like. But now I’m shifting, suddenly … or did I just notice? I don’t go to the beach as much as I’d like to because
there is so much more
I would rather do. Whether I do it or not is another story. Reminds me of a note I wrote to myself in 2014, that’s right. Time by the shore is more than relaxing. I have no way to explain it: if you know, there’s no need to explain. If you don’t: ditto. I want to discover that by the shore feeling, sense, whatever it is, elsewhere.
better yet, everywhere:
that something akin to the froth disembarking on the shore, the to and fro swaying a primal instinct buried within me. Could it be unearthed? Yes, me thinks. Yes. And I plan to bring it to light, help it out of its hiding place to where it belongs. Where I belong. Where I am.
What propelled me to grab a pen and a couple of ready-to-be-thrown-out envelopes while drinking chai and searching online for 20×20 pillowcase patterns was the first line, as a segway to St. Andrews, Scotland. Something about that place. It was on my mind
in the hours of
the morning, say 3:30-4:00 am. I want to go again, will start planning a trip for (perhaps) my next ‘big’ birthday. And golf. Not just enjoy the essence (and food!) of the place, but golf there again. How could I not?