beach, the pause that refreshes

I used to regularly go to beach workout every Sunday morning with many other people.  We had a core group (including my ex) who always went.  For years.  And we turned it into a whole day, including a picnic lunch and a relaxing soak in the ocean.

Then life got in the way.  Most of the core group got busy or moved away, so it fizzled out.  Plus my health got worse, and as you might imagine, beach workout doesn't sound as pleasant with a migraine.  Although to be fair, nothing sounds as pleasant with a migraine.

Anyway, that was a lot of rambling to say that I went again.  It was just two of us, but it felt glorious!!

It was my first time going back to that particular beach as a single person.  Fortunately, these firsts happen less and less often.  I got teary-eyed as I drove over the bridge, but I managed to compose myself by the time I parked and got to the beach.

We didn't do the smorgasbord of food, but we did treat ourselves with breakfast, after a splendid time playing in the waves and soaking in the majestic ocean.

decluttering

A few weeks ago a friend of mine challenged me to throw away one thing per day.  That sounded extremely arduous, but I like a new challenge, especially if I feel I can grow from it.  She gave me some persuasive arguments on how my emotional health will improve even if I merely clean out a closed drawer or closet. 

Before anyone freaks out thinking I live like a hoarder, my house is generally clutter-free, but I acknowledge that I have attachment issues.  I keep all kinds of stupid shit that I don't need.  For instance, why do I have three umbrellas, even though I rarely use one.  My mentality is I might need them some day, and why not keep three if I have the room.  Hence, why I needed her persuasive arguments.  Her bottom line is that I will feel better emotionally if I declutter.  Allegedly.  There's a book that is releasing soon called Outer Order, Inner Calm.   Same principle, I think.  And the author probably says it way better than I can.

Back to my challenge.  Surprisingly, I have been keeping up with it.  Some days, I get rid of more than one thing.  I donated one umbrella and decided to keep two.  That's still progress.  Go me.  I also threw out a mostly full three year old ketchup bottle.  Plus all the little ketchup packets that accumulate.  I don't even like ketchup.  Why did I save them?  Because I had room in my fridge and maybe one day I might need it.  Or one of my legions of invisible guests might.  :)  Ketchup always felt like a staple to me somehow. 

I'm having a much harder time getting rid of unused clothes, although before this challenge started, I did donate a bunch of business attire.  Clothing is so much more burdensome to get rid of because I hate shopping.  And I hate shopping because it's tricksy to find items that fit AND make me feel good about myself.  I usually end a shopping trip in tears with lowered self-esteem, even if it's ultimately successful. 

I'm eagerly awaiting the day I wake up and magically lose all of my attachment issues.  :)

deathiversary

I'm not sure how I had nothing important to say for a month, but probably no nuggets of wisdom were missed.  

Today is my mom's deathiversary, so I decided to finish tackling the stack of letters that my sister saved from Mom when I was a baby.  I started reading them a week or so ago and then life got in the way.  I honestly have no idea what I do all day, but I manage to stay busy and usually upbeat.  

The very first letter I picked up made me teary-eyed because she mentioned how great it was having me as her daughter.  But most of the rest were generic anecdotes about life in the 70s.  Which was pretty interesting to read, too. 

It's making me appreciate the complexity of the human she was.  I went through a phase for several years where all I could remember were the bad things about her.  But these letters are helping me to remember her good qualities, too.  She did her best raising us, and she did teach some great life lessons.  For that I will always be grateful.