I, like I suspect most of us, live my life in the middle. Not a frequency of highs nor lows. But relishing in the highs when they flow in. And allowing for the lows when they, seemingly all too often, flow in as well.
I was given a gift of gratitude, one that has filled me, in turn, with more gratitude than I can articulate. And thus I am spending this week, seven glorious days, at the beach. Away from the low tide that is my house repairs these days. Away from the schedule of work for me and CS and summer camp for Sun. Away from appointments and structure.
Taking the place of our busy schedules, we have long walks on the beach; witnessing the hatching of sea turtles and their trek to the sea; swimming in the surf; kite flying and seashell hunting; discovering mermaids’ purses and hermit crabs; card games at night. And laughter. Lots of laughter.
Yet the tug has already begun. The urge, need, to return home and to the ebb tide of our lives. To look forward to the coming school year and all its challenges. To return to a heavy work schedule that will provide its own highs and lows. To sleep in our own beds and dream of the Christmas in a house newly renovated. And to look ahead to the next high tide to flow our way.