A Souvenir From Georgia
It’s our very last day in Georgia, after a great, three-month volunteering gig at Fort Pulaski National Monument between Savannah and Tybee Island. We’ve learned all kinds of things about the Civil War, fortifications, and cannon (which is the plural of cannon). We know more about the low country Gullah Geechee culture that is being wiped out by development. And we’re bringing home the most amazing souvenir:
A marriage certificate!
Yes! After thirty years together, Marika and I got married! In Georgia!! We got the license last Thursday at the county courthouse in Savannah, and then last Saturday morning, we had the official ceremony On the BEACH on Tybee Island!!! A friend and her partner came down from Atlanta to perform the very small, very simple ceremony. Two other friends came too, to be witness. Another friend sent a beautiful, delicious, coconut cake, that we all enjoyed back at the RV, after lunch at a local restaurant.
Because neither one of us had ever dreamed of having a wedding, the whole thing was spontaneous and organic and perfect for who we are, now.
The tide was almost high, so we stood in the soft sand near the dunes, facing the waves, with Tybee Lighthouse in the background. It was cloudy, and chilly, and very windy, so the video is mostly wind. But the pictures capture the joy and love.
Instead of writing vows, we sang a medley of our favorite love songs to each other. And we found our rings at the beach souvenir store, next to the bikinis and plastic sand toys.
It all happened so quickly, but everything fell into place so easily. The impetus was to get Marika on my health insurance that has coverage all over the country. We’re hoping she’ll be approved by the time we get to Phoenix, so she can make her appointments to get on the path to less pain.
When I told my Dad we were getting married, his first comment was about better taxes, then he wanted to make sure it was legal everywhere. And then he said Mazel Tov and hoped I was happy. He told me about his day, and he’s often forgotten the previous conversation by then, but he said, Let me talk to Marika, and he wished her happiness too. WOW!
It’s all pretty amazing. And exciting too! And a wonderful way to begin this next chapter, with a three week honeymoon road trip.
We pull out in the morning, heading to a county park south of Tallahassee to see manatees and a lighthouse, then on to Fairhope, Alabama, north of Gulf Shores, and the birthplace of Jimmy Buffet. We’ll spend a few days exploring some wildlife refuges in the area, then we’ll enjoy a relaxing week of birds and beach on Bolivar Peninsula on the Texas coast. I’m thinking we’ll be back in Phoenix by the end of the month, but I don’t have a plan past Texas, because I don’t need to.
Once again, I am reminded that things really do unfold in their own time. And that it’s always so much more amazing than I could have imagined. It’s a practice of ask and let go, trust and release, and open, open, open!
Thanks for sharing in the joy and excitement!
[ssba]Endings and Beginnings
It has been a very full two weeks. We’ve been shadowing the park rangers on their daily tours of the fort, learning different tidbits from each presenter. We had training for ringing up sales on the computer register, and this past weekend, we participated in the Fort’s annual Candle Lantern event, a re-enactment of the Christmas Nog party held at the fort in December, 1861.
We dressed in period clothing and greeted visitors who were then escorted to the fort, lit only by candles and oil lanterns, for music, storytelling, egg nog, and, of course, the firing of the cannon.
And now, after three weeks of an erratic work schedule, we’re excited that this is our first week of our regular schedule: four days working, and three days off. We’re ready for those three days off in a row!
I’m looking forward to some relaxing, a walk on the beach, and also a visit to the Prohibition Museum in downtown Savannah.
And I’m setting aside some time to think about this past year. We spent time in 20 states, traveling and touristing and volunteering. We worked as camp hosts, and in the visitors center at a national wildlife refuge and now, at Fort Pulaski National Historic Monument. I reconnected with college friends and we even met up with some RVing friends. And after 32 amazing years, I closed my Mac training business. And none of this was part of the future life I dreamed of 10 years ago.
I was re-reading a blog post from mid-2009, and my big dream then was to write my book about living creatively, and travel around the country in my RV, sharing the book and leading workshops.
And I did exactly that in 2015.
And then, in 2016 my biggest dream, which I had let go of, never thinking it would happen, came true. Marika retired and said YES to living full-time on the road with me.
It’s been a mostly wonderful life since then. In fact, I am so content with how we’re living and traveling, that I have put any bigger dreams completely out of view. So much so that I barely think I even have any more big dreams.
When I ask myself “what else?” it’s pretty quiet. But then I feel something. And when I open into the feeling, I remember my dream of me on a big stage, sharing stories and inspirations with a room full of smiling people. But the moment I think about the work, and the path to get there, it feels too hard, too big, too never mind.
But I also want it.
And so 2019 is the year I am taking the next first step toward that stage and that room full of smiling people. And they are smiling because we are doing an exercise together, holding our smiles as wide as we can for a whole minute to increase our feel good hormones. (Try it!)
So in these last days of 2018, I’m going to sit with this vision, and walk with this vision, and sleep with this vision, to be sure it’s what I really want.
And I’m going to look back on this past year, see what I enjoyed the most, what I don’t want to do again, what I’m most proud of, what made me laugh, when I felt happiest.
I’m going to think about this coming year, and what kinds of people I want to connect with, how I want to challenge myself, and what I want to add to or remove from my life to better support this big stage dream.
I’m still playing around with my word for the year. I haven’t chosen one in a few years, and I realize how powerful it can be, and how it will be a guiding spark for me as I shift my thoughts, behaviors, and attention. I’m using my former coach, Christine Kane’s worksheet. (Yes, you have to give her your email to get it, but it’s a great tool, and you can always unsubscribe.)
I’d love to help you end and begin your own year. Let’s set up a personal coaching call, or, join the upcoming virtual Heart Sparks Coaching Circle for a truly powerful shift.
From my ending and beginning heart to yours!
The Power of a Word
Every year I choose a single word as a compass, a guide, a tangible reminder of what I want to manifest for myself. The word serves as a touchstone for me as I make choices through the year. I post the word in my bathroom and acknowledge it daily, asking myself “how can I be that?”
The first year I chose the word BE. Because I was always planning, dreaming and imagining the future, I was rarely present where I was.
BE-ing was very uncomfortable.
It made me slow down and experience where I was, not where I wanted to be NEXT. It made me sit still and feel my emotions. I began a yoga practice and discovered that the simple act of breathing can calm me and bring me back to the here and now.
The next year my word was VULNERABILITY. I wanted to let go of control and open to things that I didn’t have the answers to. I was ready to feel what was uncomfortable and go even deeper.
I had so many opportunities during that year to practice this: with relationships, how I traveled, choosing to apply for a job that I didn’t get. And I had emergency open heart surgery. Talk about vulnerability and letting go of control. It was the most amazing gift of an experience to be in that space of pure vulnerability and know how much I was loved and supported.
The following year I chose ASK as a reminder that, even though I had fully recovered, I didn’t have to do everything all by myself. I learned to ask for support, money, ideas, companionship. More important, I learned that’s it’s not about having the answers but being able to ask bigger questions and opening to the silence that is larger than me for deep and true inspiration.
Last year my word was INTEGRAYTION, intentionally spelled with the word gray in it because I wanted to let go of the extreme black and white of my thinking and live more in the grays. I wanted to find ways to meld my two seemingly opposite work worlds together more, to let go of my all-or-nothing way of being. A friend gifted me a beautiful necklace with the word stamped in silver and it was a lovely expression of further integrating my work with my personal life.
This year my word has been EXPANSION. I want more space in my life. I want to show up bigger, both inside of myself and how I connect in the world. I want to open myself beyond what I already know and do well, to what else might be possible.
Expansion is all about breathing deeper and living at the edge of what is familiar and comfortable. And moving into that opened space with courage and intention and faith.
Already this year I have had several opportunities to do things that bring me right to that edge. And, scary as each activity may feel, when I come back to my word, I see how saying YES completely supports my desire for expansion.
- I am part of an online writing community, re-committing to my daily writing practice. Click here to read my latest piece.
- I am going to a workshop in San Diego this month to create my own Geography of Loss Art Quilt
- Instead of doing a safe, written interview with a Passionate Person for the website, I was asked to do a video interview via Skype (check it out below!)
- I joined a movement/drawing class to connect with the Rhythm of Being
- I am following through with my dream to move to California
- I am pursuing opportunities to share my Mac training videos with a much larger audience
- I already have signups for a women’s retreat I am leading at a new facility in the desert in April
In the midst of all of this external expansion, it’s just as important for me to also lean into the inner expansions I am creating – to breathe, and rest and be still in this new and wondrous and sometimes vulnerable space.
What’s your word for this year? How does it help you move toward your dreams?
Please share by clicking on the Comments below.
[ssba]Stories From Savannah
We have arrived at our new volunteering assignment at Fort Pulaski National Monument, just outside of Savannah. We’re learning about the Fort’s significance, and all kinds of Fort-y words, like Sallyport (the entrance to the Fort), cannon gin (a machine used to move the cannons), and Blindage (large timbers used to protect the inside of the Fort).
Right now we’re still being oriented, and shadowing the other workers. Eventually, we’ll be answering questions in the Visitor Center and walking around in the Fort, answering questions and making sure folks aren’t climbing on the cannons and grassy mounds. Next weekend, we’ll be dressing in period costumes and greeting visitors for the special Candle Lanterns event where we offer evening tours of the Fort, with carolers, apple cider and cookies. Some of the re-enacters will even spend the night in the Fort!
We’ll be working 4 days a week, 8 hours a day, with an hour off for lunch. (I haven’t worked an 8-hour shift in more than 30 years!) But this week we’ve been on, off and on again, so we’re still a bit discombobulated. I’m sure once we have our regular schedule, we’ll feel more settled.
Our campsite is spectacular. We’re actually on Cockspur Island, surrounded by the Savannah River, marshes, pine trees and holly bushes. We have a level cement pad and a huge lawn for Cody to run and play ball. We have a clear view of the south channel of the Savannah River, and huge cargo ships float by at all hours of the day and night.
We are right next to the River Pilot station and the Coast Guard station, so we hear Reverie every morning at 8. And, after the gates close at 5, we are the only ones on the island, and it is so quiet and serene. We’ve seen deer, armadillos and a variety of birds. Last night a buck nestled under the closest pine tree to sleep.
There is a lot to see and explore on the Fort grounds and in Savannah, just 16 miles up the river. And the North Beach of Tybee Island is only 10 minutes away!
And, now that we are in one place for the next 3 months, I’m ready, so ready, to gather a virtual Heart Sparks Coaching Circle.
For those of you unfamiliar, the virtual Heart Sparks Coaching Circle is an intimate weekly gathering of 7 women who are ready for something to shift in their lives.
We’ll meet via ZOOM, a free online video-conference app, so that we are each seen and heard. We’ll use my book, HEART SPARKS, as a guide to engage in exercises and spark conversations. You’ll also receive weekly emails with inspirations and homework, and you’ll have 2 private 1:1 phone coaching sessions with me to focus on your personal journey.
All of the details are here.
www.sparktheheart.com/hsc
We begin January 6, 2019.
If you have any questions, please ask!
[ssba]Greetings From the Grand Strand
Greetings from the Grand Strand. That’s what the local weatherman calls this section of the South Carolina Coast that stretches from Little River, north of Myrtle Beach, to Georgetown, where we’re spending one more night before continuing south.
We’ve been enjoying a very relaxed journey from New England down the Eastern seaboard. We learned about the Surfmen at a Light Saving Station, weathered a Nor’easter with 50mph wind gusts, and enjoyed leash-free romps on the beach with no other people on the entire beach. We watched die-hard fisherman cast their lines on 35° mornings, and happened upon an exhibit of Audubon’s original prints and engravings at the Booth Museum in Dover.
Marika drove us over the 18 mile Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, a truly beautiful drive from the passenger seat. We camped at a state park along the Chesapeake Bay and took beach walks every day. We walked the labyrinth at the Edgar Cayce Association for Research and Enlightenment, and marveled at the decoys at the Atlantic Wildfowl Heritage Museum. Marika even said that they made her a little hungry to carve again.
For Thanksgiving we visited with a dear friend who I haven’t hugged in 10 years. We camped in her driveway, and her husband even hooked up a 30 amp plug so we could have electricity. They gave us a tour of their town, and how they craft their handmade soaps, and took us out to a farm to see their beehives. We enjoyed delicious foods, chilly walks, and a golf cart ride to see the sunset over the Palmico River. And we even taught them how to play dominoes. We all needed the laughs and the easy companionship. It was the best Thanksgiving we’ve had in a very long time.
It poured the day we left, so the three-hour drive turned into four and a half, and we were both fried when we pulled in to register for our campsite in Carolina Beach. Our tanks were almost full from the 3 days in our friend’s driveway, but the folks in the office told us that the dump station was closed because a very large branch was hanging over the driveway to the dump. It had been like that for 2 months, since the hurricane, but there was no notice on the website. The nearby private campground wanted to charge us a night’s stay to use their dump.
We had to dump if we were going to stay, so we took our chances and backed into the dump station driveway, avoiding the hanging branch, which could easily crash down in a big wind. We hooked up both sewage hoses in order to reach the hole, and we emptied our tanks. When we pulled into our spot, we saw it had a sewer hookup.
We couldn’t believe they didn’t they tell us at the check-in that our spot had sewage at the site. (The reservation indicated water and electric only.)
AND, the car battery was dead when we pulled in, so we had to get the check-in people to give us a jump. After we pulled into our spot and set up, Marika was on the phone with AAA, asking about a new battery while I took Cody for a much needed walk.
AAA came, everything worked out, and we were so happy to be done with the day, feet up, under the trees, along a river, near the ocean.
Today we’re in Georgetown, South Carolina, about to drive into the historic downtown area to walk along the waterfront and check out the Rice Museum.
Tomorrow, we’ll head to Edisto Beach State Park, our last camping before we begin our three-month volunteering gig at Fort Pulaski in Savannah, Georgia.
P.S. I have been missing doing my coaching work and, once I know the wifi and cellular situation in Savannah, I’ll be sharing details about a new Virtual Heart Sparks Circle. Imagine 7 weeks of inspiring emails and exciting homework, along with weekly virtual gatheringswith 7 open-hearted women who, like you, are ready to say YESto exploring a new perspective, a new attitude, a new way to show up for ourselves and our lives. There will be also be one-on-one coaching sessions, to fully support you.
If this sounds at all intriguing to you, please email me so I know there is interest. No commitment required.
[ssba]The Leaves Aren’t the Only Thing Changing
note: wifi is slow and sketchy, so no photos right now.
When we left New Jersey on October 1st, the trees along the Garden State Parkway were still full of green, and we were both wearing shorts and t-shirts. Because motorhomes are not allowed on New York Parkways because of the low clearances, we skirted the city and took the Tappen-Zee Bridge over the Hudson River, and into Connecticut. We spent one at a state park along a river, just a few miles from a very rocky beach.
The tide was high, and there were so many big rocks and no sand for a beach. But the sounds of the water pulling back over the rocks was mesmerizing.
We spent two nights in Narragansett, a fishing village on the southern tip of Rhode Island. We’d been there 20 years before, when we rented a cottage with Marika’s mom and some of my friends came to visit, just blocks from where we were now camping at the state park. We were just around the corner from a wildlife refuge AND the beach.
It was officially off-season, so it was free to park at the State Beach Day Use Area just a half mile from the campground. A wooden boardwalk that began in the parking lot was covered with drifts of sand as it led over the short dunes and onto the fine, sandy beach.
I took my shoes off and my feet melted into the firm but soft sand. The tide was high so the beach was short, maybe 30 feet to the water, with rocky jetties on both sides, sectioning off the stretch of beach from the wide crescent of sand where a few other people were walking.
I stopped at the edge of the water and watched the low waves, rolling and breaking, then riding toward me. I rolled up my long shorts and took a few steps in. The water was not shockingly cold, so I rolled my shorts up higher and walked in deeper. The splashing was soothing, and I could feel it loosening me, clearing me, cleansing me. I squished my toes in the sand, feeling my weight shift as the water rolled over and under me.
And I had a feeling inside me of home. Of being exactly where I am meant to be, and being who I am meant to be.
And then, of course, I could see how much change and shifting had been happening in the last few days since we left New Jersey, how EVERYTHING was different. And no wonder I didn’t feel grounded. But being there, at the beach, was the perfect medicine.
That night, we got together with a college friend I hadn’t seen since that house rental twenty years ago. She and her husband took us out to dinner and it was so fun to reconnect and hear about the life she is living.
In the morning I woke unsettled and crying, because we were leaving the next day and I needed more beach time. But we couldn’t stay longer because we had a reservation and a vet appointment for Cody in Massachusetts the following day. We spent the day walking along the nearby beaches, and we found a lighthouse and a circle of stones.
We remembered stories about our last time there with Marika’s mom, and we shared our first lobster roll.
That evening I took myself back to the beach with my chair and journal and stayed until it got too chilly.
The next morning, instead of our usual early departure, we went back to the beach and I walked the stretch of sand between the jetties, back and forth, not thinking, just feeling my feet in the sand, watching the white of the water roll over me.
And, then I asked Marika to go home and get Cody, to bring him to the beach since there were no people there. And she did. And he romped and ran, and seeing him, so happy, filled me with a lightness.
We drove a short two hours to our campsite west of Boston, where we were staying for a full week, to explore the area. It was a private park in the tall, dark trees that hadn’t yet started to color. I cried most of the next two days, feeling disoriented with myself. I wasn’t interested in doing anything, even though there were so many places I had been very excited to visit.
I did fine at the vet, but then I had high-level anxiety about giving Cody his new medications, even though I’m usually the go-to person for his care. It was like I was watching myself from outside of myself, all tense and agitated, and flailing at the same time. Smoking helped with the anxiety, but I still didn’t want to go anywhere. So I just sat with my Facebook feed, and the TV, and cried. I talked with Marika, but I also said some things that were hurtful, and that made things more uncomfortable.
And then I did what I invite my clients to do. I walked in nature. I focused on my breathing. I found ways to appreciate the trees instead of resenting them.
And I gave myself permission to not have to be a tourist every day. That this is a mix of vacation and living. Rest and flow. Do and Be.
Of course.
But when we’re in the middle of our own stuff, we can’t see it. We lose our balance, we get stuck in our head, and we forget the simplest ways back to our heart.
Marika shared that she was also not feeling like doing something every day. And so we took another day at home, and then we were ready to go out into the world. We spent several days visiting Lowell, Massachusetts, home of writer, Jack Kerouac, and also the Industrial Revolution.
We toured the Boote Cotton Mills Museum, and the Quilt Museum (which was more like a gallery with an $8.00 admission charge), and checked out the artist studios in a converted textile factory.
And we got together again with my college friend at an apple picking farm. And yes, Marika baked two apple pies.
We walked around Thoreau’s Walden Pond on the last warm and sunny day of the season. People were on the beach and even swimming in the pond. We each walked at our own pace, then met up for a picnic lunch in the shade.
And one morning we went to the Rachel Carson National Wildlife Refuge and followed a group of preschoolers, dressed as monarch butterflies. They were flying to Mexico for the winter. At the end of the trail they were greeted by Mexican music and teachers wearing sombreros and colorful ponchos.
As we drove along the winding New England roads, we oohed and ahhed at the pops of red and orange leaves, then whole trees, glowing among the greens.
Many campgrounds in New England close after the Columbus Day weekend, but we found one in southern Maine, just south of Kennebunk, where another college friend lives. It was in a grove of changing trees, along a small river, and close to several beaches.
We met my friend for steamed lobsters at the famous Nunan’s Lobster Shack, and reminisced about the apple pie we made for a Spanish class homework assignment. We sent her home with one of Marika’s pies, with a sticky note: pastel de manzana.
We visited the nearby Parker River National Wildlife Refuge, and bought fresh steamed lobsters from a local lobster pound. We walked along the rocky Maine coastline, and went shopping at a local department store for ear warmers and long sleeved t-shirts, in preparation for the coming cold.
And then I felt stuck again. We didn’t have reservations or a definitive route after Maine, though we had been planning to go through Vermont to upstate New York, to visit Cornell’s Ornithology Lab in Ithaca, and then head to Hawk Mountain for migration.
I was watching the daily foliage map and the temperatures, but I wasn’t feeling the pull to be in the mountains. I asked Marika to please help me figure out where we were heading.
I asked her, what do you want more of, and we both agreed we’d rather stay on the coast, in the sun, out of the forests and mountains, and that we could enjoy the changing leaves wherever we were.
But I had exhausted my resources and couldn’t find anything open, so I asked her to look. Somehow, she found a state park campground on the beach in New Hampshire that was open through the end of October.
We drove less than an hour south to our campsite, right at the confluence of the Hampton River and the Atlantic Ocean.
A friend said that, wherever two bodies of water meet, it is a Sacred Source. And I have been feeling it. I am breathing deeper, my mind is looser, and I’m aware of all kinds of letting go.
Without my Mac business, I’ve been wondering what my purpose is now, what will I do with my time and attention, and how I will get my feel-goods. I asked Marika what her intention was every morning, and she said, “To have a good time.”
I’m gonna try that.
We’re here until next Tuesday, and then we are heading back to the campground near the beach in Narragansett where it will be slightly warmer, and still in the sun. And it’s on the way back to New Jersey, where we are due for RV repairs at the end of the month. I’m a little disappointed that I won’t be able to fill in New York and Vermont on our state sticker map, but I’m OK with it.
Because I am so grateful to be in this place. I’m loving the solitude of my several times a day beach walks, and the sky has been glorious. It’s been a bit cold and windy, but I’ve got my ear warmers and layers, and the views are spectacular.
[ssba]Counting Blessings
Blessings by Ruth Davis
Counting Blessings
Our volunteering gig at the refuge in New Jersey is officially over. I worked my last shift at the Visitor Information Center on Saturday, and it was a full and fulfilling day. We had 158 visitors and sold more duck stamps, park passes, and gift shop items than any other day I’ve been there. We loaned out binoculars, showed the wonderful video, and helped folks identify what birds they saw on Wildlife Drive. I enjoyed the women I worked with, and I even teared up on my walk home.
That night we went out for Rita’s ice cream with our neighbors who live down the street. We’ve had dinner with them twice and chat when we see each other walking our dogs. It’s been fun to connect with people in the neighborhood.
And now today, Sunday, is a readying day: laundry, more laundry, packing the mosquito tent, taking out the maps. Marika is on an all-afternoon birding boat tour to watch migrating hawks. I am so thrilled that she is doing this. She’s enjoying a day in nature and I can move at my own pace and get it all done.
In between laundry cycles, I’ve been thinking about all of the blessings of this time here. That those first few weeks were all about settling into working with very-different-than-me people, not having any control over how anything worked, and finding ways to share my insights and skills without expectations.
And then, finally appreciating the heart of the job: interacting with the visitors. I think working a shift with Marika really opened me up to engaging in conversations and exchanges, and providing a friendly, welcoming environment.
From that day on, I was able to focus on these connections even when I was working with someone who I didn’t really vibe with. The challenge was that, many days, there were only 25-40 visitors in the entire five-hour shift. So there was a lot of down time. But I found ways to make it work, and even did a few extra projects, like counting volunteer shirts and hats, tallying how many volunteers are under 35, and emptying the lending library into boxes for donation. Nothing very challenging, but it was the perfect backdrop for being here, exploring the area, and closing my Mac training business.
The big reason we chose to volunteer in New Jersey was so that Marika could spend time with her last living aunt. We spent a few nights in Philadelphia and I finally got to meet Marika’s cousins, and then Marika drove up several other weekends to overnight with her aunt.
I got together with sixteen cousins and my last living uncle, and bonded with my favorite cousin from when I was three years old.
We handled all kinds of RV repairs- the new air conditioner, the water leak (twice), and the leveling jacks that won’t go down. (The repair parts are on order and we’ll be swinging back through New Jersey at the end of October to get it fixed.)
We did some fun touristing, had a great week with a visiting friend, and we each relived moments from our childhood on the Jersey shore. We drooled over real east coast pizza, Philadelphia pretzels, New York bagels, cheese steaks, local summer produce, frozen custard, fried shrimp, and live lobster, steamed at the supermarket.
And I met a Facebook friend in real life and we went to the Elton John concert together.
We have been camped in a most beautiful secluded place on a lake in the woods, still in easy reach of great food, museums, and all of the necessities.
And we finally took a glorious sunset walk on the beach!
And now we are heading out on the road, as tourists, to explore the color-changing landscapes of New England, learn about the Industrial Revolution, and eat lots of lobster rolls.
Yes, it’s been a wonderful three months, and I am so grateful that we both love living this lifestyle.
[ssba]Endings and Openings
It’s a curious thing: I’m less than two weeks away from closing my Mac training business after 32 years, and a huge part of me thinks I should have my next website up and running by the end of the month.
So that I can catch my previous peeps while I still have their attention, and more important, because I think I have to have the next thing ready and in place.
But I don’t. In fact, I can’t.
Because I don’t even know what it is yet.
And so I am practicing what I ask my clients to do/not do: I am allowing the empty space to be gloriously empty, so that I can feel around in it, explore the corners, the edges, the round places, and allow the emptiness to speak and grow and create itself.
And of course, this perfectly coincides with our upcoming travels. We will be finishing our volunteering gig here on the Jersey shore at the end of the month, and traveling in New England and the mid-Atlantic states for the next 60 days, exploring, adventuring, meeting up with friends, and enjoying this RVing lifestyle.
One again, my outer life is reflecting my inner life, oh, so perfectly.
So when I start to get wound up in my future head, I just have to remember that this is a time for not knowing, for exploring and discovering and seeing what winks at me and my heart. It’s a time for trying new things, seeing with fresh eyes and having some FUN!
[ssba]Adventures Around Atlantic City
It’s hard to believe that this is the last week in August, and that we’re only here on the New Jersey shore for another month. There are less shorebirds at the refuge, the ospreys have all fledged and, in the next few weeks, the waterfowl will be arriving for their winter layover. The marsh grasses are fading from their bright summer greens, and starting to show hints of gold and yellow. And a few leaves along the lake trees have already turned red.
We’ve been exploring more of the area with a visiting friend this past week, including a trip to Atlantic City to walk on the boardwalk. As a kid, our family would meet my Philadelphia relatives for a week at a hotel on the boardwalk. My cousin and I would spend most of the time in the hotel pool because we could only go to the beach with an adult, and my mother hated the sand and the sun. In the evenings, the families would take a walk along the boardwalk, and I’d stand against the railing watching the waves rolling far out in the ocean.
Very little is the same, 50 years later. The dunes have been built up so you can’t see the sand or the ocean from the boardwalk. The beach is much shorter, and the boardwalk has lost its famous clomp clomp sound when you walk across the wooden boards.
And there are casinos and bars and thirty-inch TV monitors mounted every 500 feet, screaming commercials for the nearby hotels and restaurants. A senior man sitting next to me on a bench said, “I come here to get away from the TV and then I have to listen to this?”
But men are still pushing the three-wheeled wicker chairs up and down the center of the boardwalk, and bikes are only allowed until noon during the summer season.
We went on a sunny day, and it was a little warm, and none of the benches are in the shade. We walked through the Korean War memorial, past several t-shirt stores, and a Chinese massage place with an older woman sitting out front, inviting us in.
The contrast of old architecture with modern wares was everywhere. The Mr. Peanut store, with its fresh roasted peanuts smell and a larger than life Mr. Peanut was long gone, replaced by a Made in China souvenir shop that is still called Peanut World.
But James Salt Water Taffy, a favorite from my childhood, is still on the boardwalk between New York and Kentucky Avenues. We picked our favorites, and I also got some chocolate covered taffies, always the coveted flavor from the two-pound box my family would bring home. And when we walked out of the store I could almost see my grandmother, sitting on the bench across from us, waiting.
One day we drove to Margate, another beach town a few miles south of Atlantic City, and home of Lucy the Elephant, the oldest roadside attraction in the US. I never went to see Lucy as a kid, so this was an adventure for all of us. We climbed the spiral stairs inside her front legs, and stood in her wood paneled belly, and looked out her eyes toward the ocean. Our tour guide told us about her history, first as an attraction to sell real estate, then as a bar and hotel, even a private home, and how she was almost torn down in the 70’s, and then saved by the community.
Another day we climbed the 228 steps to the top of the Absecon Lighthouse, the tallest in New Jersey. Each step had a plaque with the step number and the name of a person. It still has the original first order Fresnel lens, and, even though the light has been decommissioned, they turn it on every night.
We took a nature boat tour through the wetlands around Cape May at the south end of the Jersey shore. We saw osprey, terns, whimbrel, and so many American oystercatchers. The wetlands are home to many nesting colonies of laughing gulls, and we saw adults and juveniles, fishing along the reedy edges of the marsh grass.
We’ve enjoyed fried shrimp, real New York pizza slices, soft-serve that tasted like a creamsicle, and lots of goodies from the various Italian bakeries. We sampled several flavors at the local peanut butter store, and feasted on another lobster dinner at the Smithville Inn. And last night, Marika grilled peaches for the first time. Boy, are they good with vanilla ice cream and a few local blueberries to cut the sweetness.
This week I’m back to my regular Thursday, Friday, Saturday volunteering shifts. And after Labor Day, the tourists will be gone, and it should start cooling off so I can finally go to the beach.
September will also be my very last month as a Mac trainer, as I am officially closing my mac2School training business after 32 amazing years. It seems a perfect time, as Fall and the Jewish New Year approach, to take inventory of all that I’ve done and been, and what has brought me to where I am, who I am now. I’ve purchased a new domain, ruth-davis.com and I am taking my time to see what that will be. And I am courting several possible volunteer camp hosting gigs for next summer.
We’ll be traveling in October and November, following the changing leaves in New England with stops in Jack Kerouac’s hometown of Lowell, Massachusetts, the famous Cornell Ornithology Lab in Ithaca, New York, and Hawk Mountain in Pennsylvania for the fall hawk migration, then heading south for the winter.
Being with our friend this week has been more than just good fun and even a card game. When you know someone for thirty five years, you really know them, you see how each other has grown and changed and transformed. My friend is a very adventurous traveler. She always has been. I was sharing how I used to be more adventurous and how sometimes I feel like I’m not anymore, and she reminded me that I’m having different adventures, that I’m being brave and adventurous in other ways.
And isn’t that what true transformation is? Doing it differently? Because it CAN’T stay the same AND be a transformation.
I invite you to notice the transformations happening in your own world. Pay attention to the colors around you, when the leaves start to fall off of their trees. And notice what is different about you, in your own skin, in your own life. I’d love to hear about it.
[ssba]
Home Is Where We Park It
Two weeks ago, the air conditioner in the RV finally died. We’d had it serviced for a squeaking noise at the end of May while we were in Memphis. But a few weeks later it started squeaking again, and dripping, and, while Marika was in Philadelphia, the noises became deafening. I made an appointment with a mobile repair company to come on Wednesday. Shortly after Marika got home on Tuesday, it died.
That night, it was 80° outside with 80% humidity, and even moving into the living room for the cross breeze didn’t help. Neither one of us really slept. In the morning we were both tired and hot and the repair guy didn’t come until late in the afternoon. He said we needed a new unit, but that he’d have to order it and come back the next day to install it.
Marika and I had already talked about how much a new unit might be. She had guessed $1200. So when he said $1100. including installation, it was easy to say yes without involving her.
We sat outside under the awning, catching the brief breezes, and watched TV on our phones. I checked in on Facebook, where a friend suggested staying at a hotel for the night. I wondered why we hadn’t thought of it sooner.
So we packed an overnight bag and found a nearby hotel that was pet-friendly. And they had a swimming pool. I was so glad I had packed my bathing suit, and that Marika encouraged me to go swimming, even if the pool was heated.
Because I so needed to be in the water, moving in my body, weightless, then floating, releasing the stresses of the last few days. I needed to feel held as we moved through this ordeal, so that I could support Marika too.
We got a decent sleep, Cody seemed relaxed and comfortable, and I went to work the next morning while Marika waited for the repair people to return with the new air conditioner. They finally arrived around nine at night, in the dark. It was a quick install and we both had a good, deep sleep.
Now we are dealing with a water leak in an outside compartment. Gratefully, it is not leaking inside the RV, which would be a serious problem. The mobile repair guy checked the usual places, but wasn’t skilled enough to further explore possibilities. So today, as you are reading this, we’re driving about an hour north to an RV repair place, where, hopefully, they will be able to fix the problem.
Meanwhile, I’ve settled into the rhythms of my volunteering here. When it’s quiet at the Visitor’s Center, which is 75% of the time, I play games on my phone, read about the area, and last week, I used the time to write some thank you cards.
Marika has been taking care of home stuff while I’m working, but last Saturday she joined me at the Visitor’s Center because none of the other volunteers had signed up. I handled all of the transactions, and she loved interacting with the visitors, and watching the birds at the feeders out the big window. She even brought her lens cleaner and cleaned the loaner binoculars. We both had such a good time that she’ll be working with me most Saturdays.
And on our days off we’ve been exploring the area. We visited nearby Brigantine, a barrier island near Atlantic City. We found a free parking spot on the street and took a quick walk along the seawall, but it was too warm and sunny to be on the beach.
We found the Observation Tower on the north end of the island and Marika saw glossy ibis, black crowned night heron, snowy egret, red winged blackbirds. I sat at the top of the stairs, enjoying the shade and the breeze, and the faint roll of the nearby waves.
We stopped at the Brigantine Historical Society where Margaret Kuhn, one of the volunteers, gave us a tour. She was born and raised on the island and she told us stories of growing up, and of her father, who was very active in the community, especially with the Beach Patrol and Lifeguards.
That’s Margaret in the photo, holding the tray, and today, standing in front of a painting of her father, and a photograph of him next to the first Beach Patrol car that you couldn’t even drive on the sand.
Another day we drove north to Barnegat Light, another beach community famous for Old Barney, a decommissioned lighthouse. We looked around the visitor’s center, then I climbed the 217 steps to the top for a beautiful panorama of the ocean and the bay. My thighs were talking to me for a few days, and I was still so glad I did it.
We’re learning the backroads to the supermarket and visiting different farm stands to find our favorites. We’re enjoying the bevy (I love to use my mom’s name in a sentence) of restaurants, including the Friday Lobster Fest – a 1.5 lb lobster, salad, corn on the cob, and a baked potato – all for only $25.00. And last week we bought live lobsters at the Shop-Rite for $6.99/lb, had them steamed, then enjoyed delicious lobster on our salads for four meals.
This weekend we’re taking the RV up to Philadelphia for a three night visit-the-families weekend. One of my cousins will be in town so a bunch of us will get together, and we’ll spend time with Marika’s aunt and her sons. Of course, we’ll be doing some touristing too.
And then it will be back to work, and our simple, lakeside living. We have a mosquito tent now, so we’ve been sitting outside more, enjoying the quiet and the view. This past week it’s been a little humid and raining, and the mosquitos are in full bloom, but bug spray helps and it makes for fine neighborhood walking weather.
Marika has gone birding along the eight-mile Wildlife Drive almost every day, and once a week, I join her for a shorter cruise around. She loves to watch the skimmers and I enjoy the expansive views, and seeing how much the osprey chicks are growing. This week they are hopping more in the nest, getting ready to fledge and fly. (That’s a green headed fly on the windshield.)
I am so grateful to be here, despite the weather, the bugs, the glitches with the RV. This is the life we choose to be living. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
