Tag Archives: beach

A Sunday Stroll

I’ve had a nasty migraine since yesterday afternoon, which has been very limiting. I don’t get them as frequently as I once did, but I still don’t like being slowed down. It frustrates me to see the long “to do” list and be incapable of tackling it. Admittedly, I’ve been a “slow learner” in this area of my life. I tend to be the woman, wife, and mother who “plows through” ignoring the demands of her body. (Oh, the lessons I’ve learned–fodder for another post.) However, the body can be pretty insistent. It is this morning. My head still throbs, leaving my stomach queasy and the quiet tapping on this keyboard sound like a jack hammer. Therefore, rather than stressing about the list of chores I needed and wanted to get done, I’ve decided to take a walk along one of my favorite beach stretches: La Jolla Cove in San Diego.

Join me? And, as you do ponder these words today:

Nature is my medicine. ~Sara Moss-Wolfe

Imagine the only steps left in the sand today are yours.
Imagine the only steps left in the sand today are yours. And remember, ask for help when you need it. There is always a lifeguard available.



This little one knows how to relax.
This little one knows how to relax.
Take a moment or two to be still today and just notice the world around you.
Take a moment or two to be still today and notice the world around you.
Let the wind dance through your hair and the waves spray you with kisses.

One last thing before you go, to all who have left comments in the last couple of days, I thank you! Please know I will be back soon (hopefully, later today) to reply in addition to making the rounds and visiting your sites. I thank you all for taking a Sunday stroll with me today.

Because sometimes, ya just need to stop the voices.

Yesterday was a long day. Not bad, just long. And filled with voices. Lots and lots of voices beyond my own. The day started out quietly–which is really why I get up at 4:15. Disregarding the meowing cats and whiny dog,  my day began with 2 hours of blissful quiet. Then came the teaching, the parenting, the phone calls, the emails, and neighbor visits. None of it “bad”, just non-stop. I felt bad I had little energy left for my husband when he returned from work. I was still teaching at 7:30. By 9 PM, my head felt squeezed by the echos of the day. Clenched teeth didn’t help. There was simply no room left for my own voice, my own thoughts, my own solitude. I tried to write and, ironically, couldn’t find the right words. My daughter, still working on homework, called to me from the other room. I heard only mono-syllables that sounded something like Charlie Brown’s teacher; “Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah.” I didn’t respond. At that point, I didn’t even want to hear my voice. I looked at my husband with pleading eyes. He responded. I had passed the saturation point.

I knew it was past time to “pack it in” for the evening, but I couldn’t stop the voices. I played excerpts of the day over in my head. I jotted notes in my planner. I mentally responded to unanswered emails. I closed my eyes. And there, in the darkness of my own eyelids, I heard another voice. It was my Ya-Ya in Kansas. While talking about home decorating, she once said there should always be a place where “you can rest your eyes” in a room; a place void of pictures, or knickknacks, or anything else that made the eyes work. Exactly what I needed last night; a place where I could rest my eyes… my ears… my brain.

So, I went to the place I always find peace. I stayed on Colorado, but I went to the beach (via the power of digital photography.) And with the help of my imagination, the sounds of the surf, the warmth of the sun, and the feel of the sand between my toes gave my brain the perfect place to rest the voices.

Better than a therapist's couch--the cove in La Jolla.

With gratitude to my Ya-Ya, once again, for her shared wisdom and the rest it gave me last night.

How do you turn off the voices at the end of a long day?