the littlest joys

I'm not sure who taught me to find joy in the littlest of things but if I had to guess who I'd guess my mother, who always taught me to be thankful for what I have, and the blogging community, who wrote about the simplest of things with so much enthusiasm it made me want to do the same. I am grateful that even when my heart hurts I can find at least one thing that gives me a feeling of happiness.

I try to remember moments that make me feel a certain way. This feeling is hard to describe for it isn't happiness alone- it's a mix of emotions that lights a passion fire in me and makes me forget all the things I might be worried about.

Doing normal things has been hard. They take more time to do when I can manage to find the littlest ounce of motivation to something in the first place. However, when I do manage to do something I find that I am lighter because I tried or the outcome was great.

For example, I had wanted to cook something but nothing on Pinterest, yes I use this for half of my recipes, stood out. So I ended up making a chai tea with whatever spices I had and testing different kinds of milk. My hopes for this tea weren't high but when I tried the tea with milk that made the flavor of the chai stand out I internally danced with joy. The tea made me feel warm without being pushy. It wasn't' too sweet but just enough so that I was sent on an imagery journey to find the rest of the sugar in my soul.

I found something that inspired me and guided me to write a post that was never going to be written if it weren't for that feeling that the Chai tea gave me. 

written at 2am

When the beach is "Closed"

What to take to the beach when the beach is closed:

just myself.

and maybe chapstick, a book, bobby pins, hair ties, and some snacks.

but mostly myself.

written at 12:50pm while waiting to get into the car

because we all know once your in the car you can sit down and enjoy the journey

Peppermint oil, and sweaters too! This is the Oregon coast we're talking about.

Turns out all I needed was:

water, a hair tie, a sweater, and some snacks.

but mostly myself.

Yesterday, was the kind of day I would journal about. Keegan's family and I drove in two cars to a closed beach on the Oregon coast. This Oregon girl sat distressed the first part of the car ride- it was too hot. 84 degrees. But I knew that once arriving at the coast it would feel like winter had come back to greet me. 

When we got there all the signs read closed and there was a small spark that was lit within me. To go somewhere you aren't supposed to is one of the most exciting feelings. I put my sweater back on as I got out of the car. Together, 11 people, walked past the do not enter signs and hiked down the trail to the beach. 

The beach was lonesome until we came to admire it's waters and run barefoot in the sand. We made two fires. One for food and the other for warmth. 65 degrees and wind makes for hands that numb quickly. Kids ran on the beach and 

I sat rather quiet that whole time. Thinking about how I felt connected to the earth at that moment but so separated from people at times. Sometimes I feel oceans away from who I am at the core but that's okay because there moments in which, for a small amount of time, I feel like myself. 

Sneaking to the beach is one of those, now more rare moments, that I feel like myself.

written the next day

peaceful solitude

My mind keeps wandering to this beach. I am not in love with beaches like I am mountains and forests but this beach gave light to my soul.

I remember one night I didn't want to sleep so I watched the stars and in the earlier hours I watched the sun bring the morning with it. I don't remember thinking about anything outside of what was happening. When I think about what I felt that night, I remember a feeling of peaceful solitude. That night it was the stars, moon, sun, and I keeping each other company from a distance.

Two nights ago, I sat still in the cold that night brought. My blanket and my music wrapped around me. When Fidelity by Jasmine Thompson played I pictured myself getting off the deck, walking to the middle of the parking lot, and dancing barefoot on the cement with my blanket to this song. I sat there imagining that for so long that eventually I replayed the song, walked to the middle of the moonlit parking lot, and started to dance.

A cold so great numbed my feet so much so that I couldn't feel how rough the cement was. Even if I could feel the cement I know I would have been so distracted by my shadow on the ground and the feeling of no one watching that I wouldn't have stopped dancing. At that moment I knew I was unique because I don't think it's just anyone that would get up to dance by themselves barefoot only to try to cheer themselves up.

I find comfort in those stars, the darkness of night, and doing things by my lonesome. I think about all the time I've done something on my own in the middle of the night. It's a lot. In fact, this is another of those times. I am sitting in the quiet of the night with my laptop. Simple as that.

I write this in hopes of opening up more possibilities for myself during the dark of night.