Yesterday was dank and dismal. There are far too many days like that lately. The entire garden is like a bog!
I had an appointment with the doctor at 10.30am and since the surgery is just up the road from one of the beaches, Ben and I decided to don our wet weather gear and head out for a walk beforehand. We were both covered from head to toe in thick cobwebs that needed blowing away.
And blow away they did! There was quite a wind and this, combined with the fine but persistent drizzle, meant that we got just the invigorating outing we needed. The wind was behind us on our way out and so we flew happily over the pebbles and onto the glorious expanse of sand. There were only two other people (and one dog) in sight and even they were a long way away.
It is exhilarating to be on a beach (or indeed anywhere) where there are so few people and you feel you can really let loose. It is not until you are in a situation like this that you realise how unconsciously suffocated you feel much of the time.
With no one to hear us over the wind and waves and with little care for the two other people in the distance, we ran and jumped and skipped and whirled and swirled. I threw my arms up in the air and shrieked out to the heavens, “I am free! I am free! I am free to be me!”. I pretended to be an elderly lady with a hunched back, hobbling with a stick over the sand and then a fairy moving with the lightest touch.
Do I sound ridiculous? I’m sure I looked that way but I felt so good, so alive, so free. Such a liberation from the confines of the expected and accepted behaviour of normal society.
We begrudgingly returned to the car, giving ourselves just enough time to dry off before the doctors. As we sat there, the windows steaming up from wet clothes and hot breath, I felt both full of gratitude for there being at least one place nearby I can go to feel such freedom and full of sorrow that I find it so hard to feel that kind of freedom when I am in the company of other humans. All except Ben, that is, who is as weird, wonderful and awkward as I am.
As an aside, I am sorry to report that the doctor I had been seeing since last March has now left the surgery. I could have predicted as much and am therefore not surprised. But oh, I am so sad! I think the whole community has gone into mourning. Presence is everything and he had it in spades.
Speaking of spades, maybe I’ll take one (and a bucket) to the beach next time.
Love and courage,