The other, other day
The day before yesterday. Not yesterday but the one before that. Let's just call it: the other, other day.
So, the other, other day I went to Venice Beach by myself--a solitary ritual I enjoy on the rare weekend when I have no plans. Shawnee picked me up from my house and drove me to Venice before she went to work. We grabbed some delicious smoothies and parted ways--she to her job and me to the beach.
I walked lazily through the bustling crowds of miscreants and tourists that populate the boardwalk. I noticed a fry cart selling what appeared to be traditional Belgian style fries in paper cones (served with mayonnaise just the way I love them), but I simply shrugged and smiled and resisted the temptation. I sipped on my smoothie and continued on toward the water.
I sat down, realizing I'd forgotten a towel, but it didn't seem to matter. Life felt right. I felt content; I was where I was meant to be. I reached into my leather bag and, with some difficulty, pulled out my headphones and plugged them into my phone. I tried to get spotify going so I could just kick back, relax and enjoy myself even more. However, no matter what--spotify just didn't want to work. So I plucked each ear bud out and stuffed the whole mess of wires back into my bag. I wrapped the leather strap of my purse around my ankle and crossed my legs. I closed my eyes and breathed.
Before I knew it, I had done ten minutes of meditation. It was exhilarating. I sat and breathed in with the pull and out with the crashing of the waves. I tasted the salt in my nose. That fragrant beach smell of brine and fish and heat. People chattered around me but it was nothing discernable. A low humming of human connection. It let me know they were there but did not distract from my bliss. And then it happened. I reached a state of true contentment. A golden color so warm it enveloped me with comfort and peace. I sat in the gold for as long as possible. Blissfully aware and unaware, in a state of golden knowing and unknowing. All that was, remained. And all that was not, exited. There was no struggle.