Greatness

I felt like writing all day yesterday. I had the feelings and the words for them and my thoughts were constantly slipping into that fancy way of transition between emotion and prose -- "The cerulean sky is absolutely breathtaking today." And when I can't write those kinds of things down, I start saying them out loud. It's obnoxious. Needless to say, though I was filled with inspiration, I didn't write yesterday. I used the surge of energy on other things (like organizing all of my writing materials and walking my dog down the street. Very important things).

And last night, just when I felt the guilt for not using it to update this blog, for example, my friend questioned me about when I was planning to write a new post. And I told him exactly what I told you above (except, not as dramatic). I trusted that the inspiration would come back, and sure enough, I felt it breathing late this afternoon, and here I am. Inspiration spun into the magic it intended being, a day late.

(for future reference, "***"s translate to "Hey, this blog post has no theme. Prepare for jolting subject change.")

***

Apparently a heat wave is sweeping through parts of California, but it is mild and cool here and I've found myself in anything from shorts and flip flops at the beach, to sweaters and blankets on cold morning walks.

Last Friday (and the Saturday before) included both sets of apparel. (Swimming in the cool and unpredictable pacific under the breathtakingly cerulean sky, and gathering around the blazing warmth of fire in the chill of oceanic night. I told you it was obnoxious. Also, Stephan, read that sentence again and tell me it doesn't sound like poetry.)

(Rachelle took this picture, and it might be my favorite from the entire day. Or ever, for that matter.)

I think the waves flipped most of us under at least once, and by the time I had gotten a mouthful of salt water and that panic attack moment of this is how I'm going to die, and then continued facing the ocean, I decided that I want my entire life to be like this. Freezing, submerged in water for a moment, but then back in the open air and going further out into it, knowing the knockdown could happen again at any moment. But the experience. That's worth it. Always.

Waves make good metaphors for life.

Moving on, more important than the location were the people. I could not know better people to spend days like these with. They are perfect. Warm and colorful and full of life in so many ways. (Lots of hugs) It is wonderful to know that we're all doing this great big thing -- facing challenges and finding ways to overcome them and connecting with each other and living out the very start of our lives, and it's even better to know that we're not doing it alone. That, actually, is the best part.

(the context of this photo and what was going through our minds is the opposite of those pleasant thoughts above, but I'm not going to mention the agitating middle schoolers we shared our bonfire pit with. Oh, wait.)

For me, it was definitely one of those, "Wow, this is really happening," days. People who love each other and talk about being together more over the next few months -- here we were, in the middle of the sand, at the beginning of the summer, together. And we stayed together and talked until the sun had long since gone down, over the glow of firepit flames, and the reality that life can be found where you least expect it just came spilling out of that place. The bonfire was my favorite part. Singing. Laughing. S'mores. I am so happy to be in the presence of such greatness.

Even the not so fun moments like lugging all of our crap across the beach was evocative of nothing but goodness, really. I love the sunshine and sea breezes and the warm pavement on bare feet and going coatless and wind blowing through bubble wands, and I love my friends.

To an entire summer that matches that evening's greatness.

Savanna, Hulisa, Alysah, Kimberly, Fernando, Stephan, Kate, Ashley, Madi, and Rachelle - I love every single one of you.