|From a boat ride to look for dolphins we got lucky and saw mama and baby whale.|
|A hike on the west shore.|
|Bill informs me that this is the beach where much of Lost was filmed.|
|Mama and papa monk seal. Two of 1000 that are left. She just thwopped him on the head. I'm already pregnant . . .|
|Back at the Marriott.|
I might shorten it: blessed to be stressed.
It's the penultimate day on the beach. Reality starts to kick in. You kick yourself for not staying for two weeks. Or moving here. Could I be happier waking up every single day to 80 degrees and sunshine? Jury is out.
Though I didn't bring it along, I've read Anne Morrow Lindbergh's Gift From the Sea so many times I almost have it memorized. She calls women the hub of the wheel of marriage, children, community, and church.
The Elle article about women balancing career and family comes back to me too. The crux of it is, the author chose her life and chose family and career and marriage. We are not victims, lets face our choices with some gratitude.
I am a perfect child of God
Given every gift I need
Blessed to be a blessing
That is my poem. Written years ago. It just came back to me here.
Perhaps we are given everything we need. We take for granted that our basic needs are met, but maybe beyond that we are given enough time, talent and energy to accomplish everything we are supposed to do.
My sister is going through a particularly rough stretch right now, and it's not my story to tell, but something is going on behind the scenes that it noteworthy. Her little church choir, that is, my dad's little church choir, is on fire. She who's training consists of a couple summers of drum major camp is leading a group who's sum is oh so much greater than the parts. God churns up an accompanist with a music degree and every gift is given. What Susan really didn't have time for but did anyway is blessing the whole community. Blessed to be stressed?
What is my gift from the sea this year? How does God speak to us? My friend Julie post spiritual direction ideals and icons on Facebook. This week was a paragraph she wrote on sleep being a spiritual act that takes discipline. It takes discipline to rest. I never really thought of it that way.
Too blessed to be stressed. I am overwhelmingly blessed with the opportunity to be a parent, a wife, a daughter, a teacher, an accompanist, a friend, a homeowner, a gardener. How many spokes we all have?
It's relatively easy to count the blessings, day to day it takes discipline to manage the stress part. Maybe that discipline means taking two weeks in Hawaii next year? Smile. Not sure if that's in the realm of the possible for many reasons. But I can recommit to the spiritual act of rest from day to day. The discipline. It means going to bed instead of practicing, reading or chatting with my husband. The payoff? With eight hours sleep the other sixteen hours can be more productive and let's face it, more cheerful.
I have to go now. We are driving up the shore of O'ahu to see the giant waves on the north side. Those are the waves they don't let people from Minnesota jump in. Cue the lifeguard with the megaphone, "Would the very pale and under inked family from Minnesota please step back from the surf unless you have experience with shore breaking waves."
We don't. We are content to watch. We'll have to sit here on the beach. That's a high-class sacrifice.
Too blessed to be stressed.