Thursday, February 02, 2006

Venice Beach

This past Sunday, just four short days ago, though it seems like an eternity ago, I was walking on Venice Beach with my best friend, who is also, lucky for me, my family, Tracy, trying to capture a photograph, no, that's not right, trying to capture a video of the beauty of it before jetting back across the country to my home in Indiana.

I know what home is. It's where your heart is. That's where my heart is.

Having always been a bit of a wanderer, not really feeling like I actually belonged anywhere, I was very stunned the first time I realized that that is where I belong. Maybe I lived there in a past life or maybe that's going to be what my Heaven is...or just maybe I'll get there during this particular Life Walk.

When I am walking on the boardwalk, in sight of the Pacific Ocean rolling onto the shore, trying to entice me into its surf, is when I am happiest and most content. I've gone through all the self-evaluations. I know that being on vacation is less stressful, so we cling to the place that makes us feel that way. I know it's different if you have to work in a place to make a living so you can live there. I know all the pros and cons. Believe me, I've sat up nights making lists of them. The pros so far outweigh the cons.

The biggest con up to this point has been trying to find a job at my age, but fortunately, my job is intent on keeping up with the technology that allows me to telecommute even now, always, as long as I live within the same exchange as the hospital, but they are also wanting to expand their horizons, so making it wireless and possible for me to telecommute daily from California is within the realm of possibility for me, within the next couple of years...be patient, then move West, young woman, right?

Patience has never been one of my virtues.

It is such a small world anymore. Living 2000 miles away and getting back to see my family often is not only possible but necessary and probable. I probably would see them no less often, honestly.

Here's my dream day: Get up at sunrise. Go to Starbucks for a pastry and coffee. Wander over to the Washington Street Pier and sit on a bench that straddles the sand and the surf so I can take in the ocean to where it disappears and the beach and buildings until they disappear on the horizon. Even sitting here at my desk I can close my eyes and hear the sounds of voices around me, muffled by the cushioning of the ocean spray each time a wave comes in...or maybe that muffled conversation all around me is just softened by the contentment in my own brain. The ocean doesn't allow much intrusive conversation. It's talking way too loudly for us to be able to speak of petty things in its presence. I can visualize a wave curling up on the ends, the ends being its hands, clapping them over its ears and chanting, "I can't hear you, I can't hear you!" when the conversation on its shores turns unhappy. No wonder all our troubles disappear while we're there.

I will sit and listen to the ocean, take in the words of wisdom, then go to my apartment. In my dream, it's always a small, cozy apartment, a few stories up, facing the street, so I can always hear the people passing by and look out a window and see them heading for the beach. So I can always hear the traffic, with a big palm tree right outside that will wave in the wind. I'll go to work, do my eight-hour day, transcribing for my hospital back in Indiana. There will always be fresh lemonade and iced tea in the fridge. When I take a break, I'll walk quickly to the nearest spot I can get to to see the ocean, with a glass of cold lemonade in hand, Annie at my side...breathe it in, make a snapshot on the back of my retina, go back to work. Annie will lay on the sofa while I work and watch the street below, just as anxious as I to get outside and down on the boardwalk with the crowds.

At the end of my workday, I will call a friend and take them with me to the beach. I'll walk to the Sidewalk Cafe and have a salad and a Corona, walk home as the sun is setting. I'll crawl into bed with Annie laying at my feet, and fall asleep with the window open, listening to the distant sound of the surf, smelling the salty air, full of the sights and sounds, ready to start the same the next day. Always the same, it will be, and some might find that boring, but I'll find that sweet.

And if my people decide to join me there...even sweeter.

1 comment:

Tracy said...

OOH! OOH! PICK ME! PICK ME!