Category Archives: Vacation

Gratitude Friday

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baby blackberries

This post is a mashup of The Little Bliss List and Joy Jam, and as such is meant to celebrate: the little things that brought me hope and happiness this week, the sweet stuff of life, those small gifts that brought me joy this week. By sharing them, I not only make public my gratitude, but maybe also help you notice your own good stuff and send some positive energy out into the world.

1. Depoe Baykery. I love baked things: bread, donuts, cake, pie, cookies. In fact, I kind of wish I didn’t love them quite so much. I think it has something to with my German DNA, because I love all things potato as well. White, doughy and starchy, chewy and a little sweet makes my mouth happy. And here on the coast, I have discovered the most wonderful little bakery.

First contact was a maple bar bought from their stall at the Waldport Wednesday Market, (second to baked things and fresh produce, my favorite is maple: maple bars, maple nut ice cream, maple syrup). I fell instantly in love. And then the next week, I had one of their coconut macaroons, and it was over. They are made out of coconut, butter and sugar, with a splash of heaven or pure evil, I haven’t made up my mind which, and each one is as big as your face. And if that weren’t already enough to kill me, they fill their bear claws with Marionberry! I haven’t decided if it’s good or bad that you can order their cookies online and have them shipped to you.

I wish you could somehow smell them: a chocolate chew and coconut macaroons

2. Fresh produce. I am still obsessed, hitting three farmer’s markets per week. My current obsessions are raspberries and cucumbers.

3. Coming home after being away. I had a great time at the World Domination Summit, but I sure missed my boys. In those first moments back, I remember how lucky I am and I feel so grateful for all the love and comfort that is mine, to be missed and loved as much right back. My dogs spent the whole rest of that first day following me everywhere, sticking with me like two Velcro dogs, and I loved it.

4. Long walks on the beach. This morning, we were out for three hours: walking, playing, chasing birds (that was Sam, not the rest of us, the Lab/Border Collie mix just can’t help herding the birds), collecting shells and rocks, taking pictures, listening to the rhythm of the waves. I am trying to enjoy this time, rather than think about how much I am going to miss it, but as our vacation winds down, it’s hard not to feel a little sadness.

the view this morning

5. Reconnecting with old friends and meeting new ones. There are people in this world who have their hearts wide open, who are kind and generous and amazing, who see you, really get you, make you laugh, comfort you, encourage you, whose bravery makes you feel safe and braver yourself. I got to hang out with a lot of them this week, and it was bliss. I also am aware that “the rest” have the same potential, even if they haven’t quite got it together just yet.

Bonus Joy: Routine. I like having the comfort, the certainty of a routine, even when I’m on vacation. We realized the other night that after coming to Waldport for the past ten years, we have that here: we walk and hike the same places, have a set schedule, go to the same markets and shops, eat at the same restaurants. I am very much a person who would rather sink deeper into a place, into a practice, into a relationship, into myself, than seek out something new or different. I know that for some of you, that would seem like some kind of torture, too boring for life, but for me it’s complete happiness.

Small (and Heart-Shaped) Stones

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On our walk this morning, I was finding tons of heart-shaped rocks. Eric said that they really were just “circles with a chunk missing.” And yeah, I think he’s right, even in the metaphorical sense (which is even more fun than fact). Our heart is a circle–unbroken, whole, perfectly and evenly round with no dark corners or sharp edges–with a chunk missing. That might just be the fundamental dilemma of our existence, our experience, that missing piece. It turns our sense of wholeness, of completeness into a ghostly thing that longs and aches, a persistent and lingering sadness. We are basic goodness (or a spirit, soul, divinity, higher self, life spark–how ever you label it) that is housed inside, manifested through a mortal, soft animal body. We have a sense of endlessness, but at the same time we are finite. It is confusing, upsetting.

We took a magical 2.5 hour walk on the beach this morning. We saw a bald eagle twice, the boys were off-lead for at least half the time, and about half that time, they behaved themselves. Because we went so far, they’ve spent much of the rest of the day napping and being loved.

For me, there was hardly any reentry nonsense this trip. As soon as we got here and walked in the door, it felt like we’d just been here, no weirdness at all. The car was unpacked, everyone’s beds made, groceries bought, a stand-up desk fashioned from seascape puzzle boxes, and that was it–we were here.

Snapshots, snippets, and small stones of the day:

  • Driving up the coast to Newport this afternoon, the sun was shining, the ocean a deep blue, the pine trees and grasses various shades of green. I’m a dangerous driver when we first get here, because every new scene takes my breath away, makes me stare and tear up, and I almost forget that I’m in control of a metal death machine.

  • While I was gone to Newport, Eric found wild strawberries in our front yard. There was a Farmer’s Market where I bought a head of gorgeous lettuce, but apparently the berry stand sold out only half an hour after they opened, so at least I got a little taste.

  • We visited “Obi’s spot” on our walk this morning, a place where we scattered some of Obi’s ashes last time we were here. It’s a fresh water stream at the point of our walk where we turn around and go back, where we always let the dogs off and in the water to play.
    There are these gorgeous, ancient, wind bent pine trees at the mouth of the stream, and a cluster of yellow wild irises. There were two tiny blooms today. If our hearts are circles with a chunk missing, Obi is part of my missing chunk.

  • The High Park Fire is still burning. In his status update this morning, Shambhala Mountain Center Executive Director Jon Barbieri offered this wisdom, “In the midst of seeming difficulty, there can be clarity, profundity and a sense of awake. There can also be sadness.” Yes, yes there can.