A Morning Meditation

We missed the sunrise by about half hour but we still managed to paddle away from the shore around 6:30 a.m. The 90-100 degree heat of the last two weeks makes it easy to stay inside, and retirement makes it easy to sleep in, but I committed myself to it today and managed an early rise.

We paddled straight out into the Chesapeake Bay away from the beach in the path of the day’s new sun. After awhile, we just stopped talking and paddled and floated on our own. Black coffee still hot in my thermos mug and as I leaned back my thoughts turned to God. That old saying, “If you feel far from God, ask yourself, ‘Who moved?’” I never feel far from God but that’s sort of the problem. Over the last few years I don’t think of Him enough.

I began talk to Him, quietly meditating on His presence. The slight current slapped gently along the bottom of my kayak, as I closed my eyes and breathed in the air.  A look around and I could see Sam at least a football field away, doing the same thing. Just laid back, feet propped up on the bow, rising and falling with the water.  Why don’t we do this more often – enjoy the early morning when no one else is around?

All the normal excuses:  we spent the spring planning a wedding, a honeymoon, buying a house, trying to sell one, getting our joint finances in order, helping our kids, doing laundry, making meals, living day to day.

But at that moment on the water, I thought of all the horrible news the world has had lately – terrorism here and abroad, politics pitting us against one another and the lawlessness of our leaders. I ask God to help me again, “Help me focus on you, Lord. Help me to honor you.” Early morning trips on the kayak or long walks, getting back to healthy eating and exercise. Find a church.  Help others.  Pray more.  I’ve lived an amazingly blessed life. I’ve suffered loss and heartbreak but God’s blessings overshadow those. It’s time to be more mindful. I’m shooting for the actual sunrise tomorrow.

Fifty-five

I turned 55 last Friday. I was thinking that in honor of that milestone, I would list 55 things about me that I would like my readers to know. Then I realized that I probably don't have 55 readers and making lists that long would probably discourage anyone who is considering following.

So, first, you're welcome. And second, in honor of my faithful readers, I will only post a list of ten things. I will just dip my hand into the fishbowl and pull out a slip of paper to determine what category my list will cover.

List 10 topics that are on my mind lately. I'm glad I picked this because quite frankly, I've had a lot on my mind lately and maybe by listing them, I can come up with the sub-categories for the blog.
Here goes - in no particular order.

1. Getting married. I'm getting married on June 4, 2016. A little strange being a 55-year old bride.

2. Finding our new home. We have two. We would like to sell one and buy another one in the South. We've started exploring and need to do more of that.

3. Retiring. Having sold my business after 15 years, I am currently on contract with the new owners until 1/31/16. After that, who knows? Maybe you all can help me figure that out.

4. Faith. It's been about 7 years since I belonged to a church or attended regularly. I miss it. My faith is strong but I think I'd like to be part of a church community again.

5. My 20-year old daughter. She's always on my mind. And frequently on my nerves. Off at her junior year of college - I miss her greatly.

6. Crochet and crafting. Don't laugh. My mother taught me to sew and crochet many, many years ago. Right now I'm relearning crochet and it's my latest board on Pinterest.

7. Whole 30. I guess the topic is really better nutrition - eating right, drinking less, more exercise, etc., but I started another Whole 30 yesterday so that will be a focus for the next 28 days.

8.  My fiance. He's really a wonderful guy. I don't give him enough credit.

9. Politics/Current Events. Watching the debate tonight while I crochet! We're in a pickle in this country. We need some leadership.

10. Books. I have a casual little book club on Facebook called My Beach House Book Club. This month we're reading The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah.

As soon as I wrap this up I'll think of 5 other things that are on my mind. But I just got a phone call from my girl who wants to discuss her day. I need to get that call done by debate time!

Looking at Retirement or Something Like It

When I posted in the New Year, I was really looking forward to being able to write about the pending sale of my business. I knew that I had been given a preliminary contract which forbade me from talking about the negotiations publicly, so I figured I would wait until I could talk about it. In the meantime, or so I thought, I would write about all the other things that were happening. When I posted in January it was about getting pink eye for the first time. What I didn't realize then is that I would have several more rounds of it before the infection cleared. I was miserable. And so happy once it finally cleared only to discover that my tear ducts had completely closed, which left me unable to wear makeup and tearing constantly.

Factoid: Our tears do not come from our tear ducts; our tear ducts are their to drain our tears. And they are part of our sinuses. You hear about babies having tear duct surgery but rarely adults. So, of course, this happens to me because I can't just get normal crap like most people. Several years ago when I almost died of C-diff colitis, my research basically said only geriatrics and toddlers come down with this, not healthy 40-somethings. What can I say - I have to stand out somewhere. So yeah - not blocked tear ducts, but closed tear ducts. My eye doctor TWICE performs a procedure where he takes tiny little snippers and snips open the opening to my tear ducts. Within a few days of each procedure, they close up again. So about a month ago (mind you people, I have worn minimal makeup since Christmas 2014. Thank goodness I have John because it's scary, trust me), I have real surgery - general anesthetic included - where they insert tubes into my tear ducts that look like fishing line and tie them off inside my sinuses. Seriously. Here's what it looks like:

You can see the tube running from the top tear duct to the bottom. This is not my eye, but that's what it looks like. For 7 weeks. I'm in week 3 and I don't know if this is working. Still lots of itching and watering. If this doesn't work the next step is more invasive sinus surgery where they make an incision on the sides of your nose near your eyes. Let's not talk about that now.

The point of this was simply to state that I was so excited that I was going to be writing about all the things that have been happening in my life but I wasn't able because I couldn't talk about the possible sale of the business and plus one is not really up for writing blogs when they can barely see. So ten months after my first bout of pink eye, I'm not really sure what's up with my eyes but there are a few milestones that I plan to write about in the upcoming posts:

1. I did sell my business. After 14 years of wondering what my exit strategy would be,  it showed up looking for me.
2. John and I have set a wedding date - June 4.
3. We're researching possible retirement moves to the south. More on our trip to Wilmington, NC soon.
4. My daughter is finally at her dream college and I'm a somewhat empty nester.

So much more. But I'll leave things here for now. I've missed putting my thoughts down. More soon!

Pink Eye and the Fog

The week before Christmas, with many gifts unwrapped and projects unfinished, I came down with pink eye. I had never had it before, so at 54 years old with a goopy, itchy eye, I became quite disabled. For three mornings I woke up with my eye sealed shut with the crusty infection. During the day, it would itch so much that I would have to lay down with a hot cloth over my eye and just rest. This isn't something that I normally do - especially during the holidays - to lay down with nothing but my thoughts. I did a lot of thinking.

One of the things I thought about was the precious gift of sight. Having had Lasik surgery 4-5 years ago, I still have the doctor's orders in my memory, "Do not rub your eye!" And so, as I rubbed and rubbed, I would worry about whether it was possible to move that top layer around and injure the eye further or even go blind. I'm not sure if people who have never had eye surgery would worry about that over a simple case of pink eye, but I did.

At one point, laying on the bed at John's house, I was thinking about what my life would be like if I went blind. Although my mind turned to something that I'm somewhat embarrassed to admit, I am actually glad that it happened. It was a moment of clarity about where my focus should be in the New Year. John and his son were in the living room watching television which I could barely hear and I lay in the quiet bedroom with a warm cloth over my eye. I thought, "If I were blind, I would not be so distracted by other things. If I were blind, I would focus more on Christ and prayer." Within seconds of this thought, I was incredibly aware of what had justs gone through my mind and I was humbled. I really need to remember that and focus more on Christ. I need to learn how to overcome distractions to devote myself to Him.

I was finally able to drive and make it back to the Beach House on Sunday night and I awoke in the morning to a thick fog over the Chesapeake Bay and the lovely song of fog horns from the ships out on the bay. As I sat in the back room listening to the fog horns and drinking my morning coffee I thought about the beauty of that lonesome, mournful sound. Ships calling out in the fog to one another, "I'm here! Take note!" My thoughts went to my previous musings about being blind, and I felt instantly that God was underscoring that with the sound of the fog horns. The Lord said, "I'm here! Take note!"

I am not a New Year's Resolution type of person. Seriously. I'm not in bad shape, but I am not motivated so much by creating challenges for myself. I seem to focus more on relationships than getting in shape. In 2014, I enjoyed some wonderful milestones and a few setbacks. I'm pretty happy with my life and I don't feel like I would be happier if I weighed less or made more money. But I do feel the yearning for a closer relationship with my maker. I remember how I felt when I relied on Him more and I do want to work to get that back. I remember my morning coffee and Bible reading and how that set the tone for my day. I remember the fellowship I felt when I belonged to a church and I miss that.

In many ways, my relationship with God is better than it was back then and in others it's not. I think the best place to start may be what I was shown in the week leading up to Christmas. Be still, close your eyes, just wait on the Lord's fog horn and follow that sound.

Faith and Worry, Worry and Faith

The last few days have not been good. I've allowed myself to be pulled in to someone else's issue. It's hard - I love my daughter, my family, my friends, my fiance - and it took me a long time to learn that people sometimes have to go through their own stuff.

When finally, after a long, ugly path, I allowed myself to surrender to the love of God, I would often think about how hard it must be for Him to watch us and not intervene. I know He could. And sometimes we wonder why He doesn't. It's hard to be a parent, I think of what God must experience as He watches us flounder around and make the same stupid mistakes over and over again. I imagine that He spent a lot of time doing a "face-palm" when it came to me. And I'm sure He still does from time to time. But I'm starting to learn that I don't have to know the outcome of everything and I don't need to manipulate and orchestrate events. I also don't need to get involved in other people's stuff. Yet, I still sometimes do.

Watching someone you care about struggle to make sense of what the right things to do or say are is painful. The struggle is real, y'all! They say that we often lost patience with people when their floundering about reminds us of our own. This is certainly true in this situation. I remember many years ago, when I was in a relationship that was not good for me, I would talk to my friends about what I should do. Every single one of them said, "You know what you need to do, you need to end this relationship." But I wasn't ready. What I wanted them to tell me was one more thing that I hadn't tried yet. A dear friend would say to me, "Life is too short to spend it wanting to be with someone who doesn't want to be with you." I would think to myself, "What is he talking about?" I laugh about it now - but I had no idea how those words applied to my situation at all! Another friend would say, "I guess you just haven't had enough yet." I must have been an extremely frustrating person to be around.

So, I pray for patience and discernment. I pray for their heart and their peace. And most of all, I pray that whatever the outcome of this situation, that it will lead them closer to the God who loves them unconditionally. I am a very poor substitute for the unconditional love and grace of God.

Ridiculous Curiosity

It's been awhile since I wrote a blog post. It's certainly an easier forum for sharing my opinions than commenting on Facebook but for some reason I enjoy the back and forth there. And I have to admit that for the last couple of years my desire to comment on current events has been largely about politics or things that I don't necessarily think relate to the spirit of My Beach House. Soooo, we come somewhat full circle back to a desire to comment on other interests of mine: the spiritual, books, creativity, art, clean eating, motherhood, and more. Just not politics! And so, if you're in fear that I am indeed as one-dimensional as you have suspected, I promise no politics.

Really.
Pinky-swear.

There really are a lot of things to explore. Because I do have a ridiculous curiosity for things. Lots of things. They don't even connect sometimes. The state of education means a lot to me. But so does music. And that I am drawn to older music lately through Spotify and Pandora channels that I've discovered. How I try to stagger my reading: fiction, non-fiction, fiction, etc. Or that for the last six months, other than a movie here and there, my television viewing has been exclusively Gilmore Girl reruns and sports. Go figure.

I think I have some things to say. It's okay if very few people are interested. Writing is sort of like navel-gazing. It's a drawn out selfie in some ways - one wants to please their audience but realizes that authenticity has its own magnetism.

Flight 93 Memorial

Quite by accident we ended up at the Flight 93 Memorial on Saturday of this Labor Day weekend. For various reasons, we had not taken a ride on the motorcycle since the beginning of July and we were really looking forward to going on a long ride. The weather was not looking good but of the three days in the holiday weekend, Saturday held the most promise. And it appeared that heading northwest from Frederick, MD was the best bet.

I mentioned that I'd read The Johnstown Flood by David McCullough, and that I knew there was a Johnstown Flood National Park there that might be interesting to check out, so we headed west in that direction. Once we reached Rt. 219, we headed north towards Johnstown and that's when we saw a sign that said "Flight 93 Memorial Highway." We checked the map and saw that if we headed east on Rt. 30 it would take us to the Flight 93 Memorial.

As we entered the town of Shanksville, Pa we started seeing a lot of other motorcycles turning into the Flight 93 National Memorial - which is maintained by the National Park Service. The drive leading up to the park is a couple of miles long. As you survey the area it dawns on you just how far away from the road this place is. It's incredibly remote and must have been difficult for responders to even reach this place.

Coincidentally, all the other motorcycles were part of the "Brothers for Flight 93 Memorial Ride" that rode from Philadelphia to Shanksville that day. There must have been fifty other bikes. When you walk up to the entrance you are greeted by a sign that reminds visitors of the somber nature of the memorial and to act accordingly. And there are exhibits by the Visitors Shelter that tell the story of Flight 93.

Some distance away from the Visitors Shelter, on the other side of the parking lot was a cordoned off section called "1st Amendment Zone" where there was a lone gentleman with a table and signs that said, "9-11 Was an Inside Job." Presumably he had literature to pass out along those lines. I was glad that they had made a space for him away from the actual memorial.

After we walked around and read the signs, we walked up the beautiful granite walled Memorial Plaza. It was so quiet even with so many people there. Every few feet, there were little ledges cut into the black granite where people had left mementos and notes to honor those killed there. After the first few feet, I found myself reaching out for John's hand. And off to the left in the middle of the field was a mound of grass backed by a grove of hemlock trees. In the front of the mound were several small American flags. I was struck just by the simplicity of it. That was it. There at that mound was the center of the crash - where at 10:03 a.m. on September 11, 2001, a plane crashed at 563 m.p.h. killing all 44 people (including 4 hijackers) aboard. We stood there just looking out and holding hands. I noticed alot of people doing the same. There was a need to hold on to another life while taking all this in.

Crash site, pictures of the victims, mementos left at Memorial

At the end of the Memorial Plaza is a beautiful white marble wall. The wall is set up in the same direction as the flight path. Etched into the marble are the names of those 40 passengers that died that day. The brochure says that 13 cell phones made 37 calls in the moments after the plane was hijacked. I wonder how many of those calls were placed for those passengers that didn't have phones. During the 35 minutes between takeover and crash, these brave men and women made a decision that would take their lives and save countless others. At the end of the marble wall there are openings that give you a direct view of the mound in the field from the exact direction of the flight. It is chilling.

I immediately saw names of the three men that led the counter-attack.

As we walked back up the Memorial Plaza, we took a moment to look at some of the mementos left on the granite wall. One note, paperclipped to a small American flag, read, "You are all heroes. Thank you for your courage. You fought for all of us." And another person left a guitar pick. Before we got back on the bike to take the long winding path back to the main road, we took one last look back at that hill of dirt in the field. We didn't plan to go there, but I'm so glad we did. I think about the families that lost so much back then and I remember picking up my daughter from her 1st grade class that day. I didn't want her to hear about this from anyone but me. So young, so innocent, I wanted to hold her in my arms and keep her safe. Amazing, it seemed like only yesterday, but she started her senior year of high school just last week.

 As we turned back on to the main road, the skies opened and we rode home in the rain. We spent the next three hours soaked to the bone as we rode through the storms, but it just didn't seem appropriate to complain.