Dear Diary: The War I Didn’t Have To Lose
Yesterday, the weather was beautiful. The sun was out, but the overall temperature wasn’t too searing hot, and the wind kept a pleasant balancing act. I was sitting here in my office, staring out of my window, debating with myself what I wanted, or what I could to try to tackle. This entry was fermenting in me, but I didn’t quite know how to go about it. I knew, in typical diary-style fashion, once I sat down to begin, it would flow organically, but I didn’t know how to organize myself enough to start. My small errands were done, and while I could try to force work on music, I kept staring outside. Outside I went.
I changed into some lightweight clothing – a running shirt and a kilt – and had initially intended on just going to the nearby park to practice my contact staff juggling, of which I am still very much a novice. Then, I thought about heading to a local harbor, for I had not spent time with the water in a while, and I missed it. Well, if I was going to spend time with the water, why go to the harbor? Why not go past the harbor and out to the coast itself and spend time on the waves? I did just that, hiking a few miles past any town to a rock. It may sound odd to some people, but this rock is shaped in such a way wherein it makes a decent chair.
It was particularly windy yesterday. The waves battered against the rock walls with force, blowing mist up onto the trail. I found it refreshing, and I marched on with joy and vigor. I twirled my staff between my fingers, around my wrists, and tried to keep myself limber as I pondered the events of the last few days and weeks. I looked out at the river emptying on to the lake and felt a sense of peace. Water brings out the best in me, be it rain, a shower, or some large body of it.
After a peaceful hike, I had arrived at the rock outcroppings. The wind was blowing the waves well up on the rocks, and I was going to be able to sit on my little perch to enjoy. Off went my hat, glasses, socks, shoes, and when the waves first met my feet, the smile across my face was truly joyous. It had been some time since I allowed myself to ‘do nothing.’ I was child-like in splashing about in the waves crashing upon the rocks, while still being careful not to get washed out to sea. I’m miles away from anyone, and these are not calm waters. After a bit of playing about, I sat down on the rock and allowed my mind to wander and think of its own pace, distance, and direction. I was not only unbothered when a relatively massive wave knocked me about my seat; I was entertained by it. I was having fun, real genuine fun all by myself out in the sun and surf.
Watching the water up and down the rock face throw mist about, and reflecting about the times I felt a sense of peace. Just earlier in the day, I was able to reconcile with someone vital to me. A short time ago, I felt the need to try to uphold a boundary I set for myself with this individual. Anyone who truly knows me understands I’ve primarily been a tool and a doormat for most of my life, and while me setting boundaries happens from time to time, but me defending them does not. I, however, went about said task terribly, acting out of frustration and impatience. I got my point across, but not in the way I wanted to or should have.
Rather than immediately try to fix things, as I usually would, I let it be. Relationships are two-way streets, and this individual could reach out to me if the conversation should continue then and there. I yearned, but I waited. Several days passed, and I did not want to wait any longer. I picked up the phone and apologized. We talked it out, why the situation happened in the first place and where we want to go from here. In the end, we re-affirmed our mutual forward direction, got some things off of our chest, exercised forgiveness, and more-or-less put it behind us. Mistakes were made, but we still want a better tomorrow, and I, for once, put value in myself in the process. I still have much to learn on how to do so consistently, and appropriately, but doing it all is remarkable.
I had been in the sun for a couple of hours at this point, and while I would have liked to be there longer, I was aware my skin is not used to such exposure, and I had no sunscreen or long sleeves. I was standing up, merrily drenched, and a pair of families had just begun their descent towards the rocks. I don’t think they’ve ever seen a man in a polyester kilt meditating in windy waves before. The fathers gave me strange looks, but the daughters smiled at me with sincerity. I smiled back with reciprocity, and I said nothing to any of them. The daughters wanted to bring an infant down to the waves, and I knew what was about to happen, so I kept an ear out for entertainment purposes. Surely enough, the shrieks of water hitting future women filled the air, followed swiftly by attention from watchful fathers ensuring all was well. I couldn’t help laugh a bit. The girls laughed too, I’m soaked from head to toe, and they went where I was, so they should have expected what happened. I dried my feet, and only my feet, put my socks and shoes on so I could begin the return trip.
I had taken some pictures of the scenery for a non-local friend who was interested in getting an idea of the area. I had also done some rock stacking on the way in, for no other reason than to enjoy the moment. To my surprise, on the way out, the stacks of stones had grown in size and number. I took a moment to appreciate the work and kept on my way. I kept twirling my staff, was enjoying the wind on my wet clothing, and allowed my mind to bounce between past, present, and future freely. I had low pain levels, low stress levels, and didn’t feel pressured to accomplish anything. The auditory hallucinations I manage, affectionately known as ‘The Tribunal,’ were behaving themselves, and I didn’t feel crippling anxieties nor guilt about the state of my relationships or the state of the country. I had a moment of present mindfulness wherein I could taste hope and freedom.
I drove home, windows down along the scenic route, and finished my day. I sit here now drinking iced Yorkshire Tea out of a mason jar, wondering what the hell happened to me. Honestly, my fridge is full of mason jars – lemon ginger waters, batches of tea, salsas, hot sauces, etc. I have more on my counter full of spice mixes with shaker lids on them. Somewhere I discovered they’re pretty handy and found a use for 50 of them. I think it goes with cutting down on waste and eating better. I digress. Seriously, though, if you would have told me a month ago I’d be drinking british breakfast tea I’d have doubts. I bigress (that’s digressing, twice). I sit here content that something worked out for once.
I am happy there is a war I didn’t have to lose. I won’t say I won, as things are still in progress, but there is reason to remain optimistic. I have an instance wherein standing up for myself didn’t lead to an automatic and categoric failure or rejection. I had a time wherein I was outside of my house, and I wasn’t crippled by anxiety. However, yes, water was involved, and I was mostly isolated, and coming off of significant emotional relief, I’ll still count it. What was more important to me, though, was I didn’t care as much what people thought of me while I was out. While I was taking pictures, I did, but when I was twirling my staff around, and when I was hiking soaked in a sport kilt, I didn’t care to the same degree. I was more content to be content and less concerned about those in my vicinity. I was reasonably comfortable, and I’ll enjoy it whenever I can achieve such. I will strive to improve how I handle when my boundaries are tested, to avoid similar unpleasant situations in the future. I will also strive to allow myself to have the innocent heart to enjoy meditating in the waves more and be unburdened by the weight of the world. I am a part of the world, but I can not win the wars alone, nor can I do it by exhausting myself day in and day out.