Monthly Archives: December 2011

On the Edge of the Storm

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Dark voluminous clouds build in every which direction.

Wind swirls through my long and loosly braided curls.

A flag of warning flies over head to proceede with caution and the roar of waves crashing on the well beaten shore can be heard from miles around.

These are the signs of a stormy day like today, along with so many others I’ve seen before. But not just anywhere…..everywhere is different, but here, here is nearly always the same.

Standing at the edge of the beach, where the commonly traveled walkway ends and the tumultous wake of the Atlantic begins, I watch as the storm passes overhead- waiting to break loose at any moment. It seems as though we are the only ones who’ve ignored the warning. To anyone else, it would seem a disaster in the making. A few tourist scramble back to their cars at the sight of the misshappen shoreline – (more than likely dissappointed that their newly purchased beach chairs and umbrella won’t have a chance to be put to first use), leaving my father and I standing as the only two people left in sight.

The weathered sign reads, “No guard on duty”, but the words don’t bother to try and phase me. And I suppose if you’ve made it thus far in the first place, on duty or not, you wouldn’t be concerned of a life guard anyhow.

My father makes the first venture outward towards the abandoned tower as the sky begins to crumble overhead. Just as a child exploring a fort, he takes on the role of the missing guard; and though I didn’t mention it, and should anyone have been watching at the time, I’m sure he could have been mistaken as such. 😉

 By the time he returns back to where I stand, a first drop of rain splatters against my arm. And not long after, a gust of wind pushes its way past, as if I were standing directly in its way.

By the slight chill stirring in the air, I can tell we haven’t much longer to play by the growing sea, but I know its long enough for my chance to explore.

  I time the seconds between the waves. They’ve risen enough to submurge the legs at the base of the stairs. After three rounds of counting, I anxiously dash outward to climb up the steps, racing to beat the next incoming flood of water. I grab the railing, freshly slicken with salt water spray and can immidiatly see why he felt the need for the amateur-like notion.

Leaning over the side of the rail, I can’t help but gaze out into the incoming storm. My mind wanders at all the possible rescues that could have taken place over the many years on days such as this, and the stories from which fishermen have told of being out and conquering it as if just another day.

My fascination of these topics is probably one that no one can compete with and I’m fortunate to have just enough time to get a taste of it.

In just a short minute, the wind has picked up even more, sending sand sailing across my new found fortress. And though I’d much rather stay and pretend, I stumble back down the stairs- forgetting about the ferocious incoming waves but still managing to escape them just in time.

I reach the walk way where the fence poles begin, each one strung together by yards of rope. Glancing back into the stormy sea, I look for any sign of its passing. The sky was now darker and the clouds whirled by in a rugged fashion, so I bid a goodbye and turned around to leave it to its being.

Not giving so much as a second thought, and my father already several paces ahead, I rush to make my way back to the boardwalk, only to be stopped by something I thought was left astray:

A simple miracle to brighten the day – A ray of golden sunshine danced across my way.

Looking up to make sure what I was seeing was in fact for real, and in fact it was. Peeking through the clouds it came out from under, it managed to stay just long enough for me to see, but was gone before I could blurt the word, “Look!”

I kept walking, saying nothing, amazed and somewhat confused about what I saw. I turned back once more, smiling, as it started to rain.

Somewhere could be anywhere but here we had never a reason to fear.

And not anywhere but here, we weren’t afraid to face the edge of a storm.

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Stop making excuses

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I’m still in shock about how fast this year has come and gone. I know I’ve written about this at least 3 times so far, even that Time doesn’t have to “fly”, but every time I turn around another month has gone by and I’m still left with things that I wish I would’ve gotten around to….things I would have liked to changed. For some reason though, talking about it and actually doing it requires two different stages of thought. And as of right now, that seems to be the rut I am stuck in.

So the most logical answer of course, would be to wait until AFTER I’ve escaped that rut to write about it, Right? Right??

When I made that decision, I couldn’t have been more wrong!!

Because by then, its just another thing to add to my list of “Haven’t gotten around-to’s”.

And between now and then, there could be too many “logical” excuses I could make to add it to the list.

Too much work to do, not enough time, something is more important, I haven’t figured it out yet…..

Like I said, those aren’t reasons. They are excuses.

And that’s where the cycle starts over, again; or in my case where it should come to an end.

As much as I would like to provide all the answers, I don’t have them.

As much as I would like to wake up and change the world, it doesn’t happen overnight.

And as much as I can talk, I’m embarressed that my dilemma lately has been that I’ve yet to listen to everything I say.

I’m learning that stopping and starting gets you nowhere, as much as we sometimes hate to admit. And starting OVER every time only sets you farther and farther away from where you began in the first place.

You thought I would have figured that out by now……..

I’m not perfect and I don’t try to be. Life is a journey, not a dictionary you pull out from time to time to look up meanings and answers. Therefore, its not right of me to try and be that dictionary. If life were that simple, there would be no excuses to make in the first place.

I said it before. I will probably say it again. This time, I’m actually listening:

“I can’t write about change when I’m still changing myself, and I can’t write about life when I’m still living it. I can only write about my journey through it, and all the little things that make it worth writing.”

Life is too short to be spent waiting. All answers come when they are supposed to, its not something you can force yourself to figure out. The more time you spend looking for something thats not ready to be found, the less time you spend living in the meantime.