I made a careful packing list before I departed for my weekend destination. I always use a list, it helps prevent me from forgetting something obvious.  This particular trip it was super handy – I didn’t forget anything I intended to bring along. Except the list. Yep. I carefully checked off each item, verified it’s location, and later departed quite prepared.

I didn’t bring the list itself along.

Strangely, this small omission which would have caused me very big stress a couple of years ago finds me untroubled today; it’s a small cottage, and I’ve carefully packed, checked drawers, shelves, cupboards, and corner tables, and it seems I’ve located each item that is mine, and packed it once again.  I could stay an eternity, I suspect. This small cottage quickly felt like ‘home’… I find myself wondering at that. Have I become ‘a turtle’, taking my sense of home everywhere with me, and easily settling in to new circumstances? That could be a very nice quality to have.

My wee home on the coast this weekend.

For now it is time to say farewell to my cottage at the beach and head home to suburbs and city, work and routine, life and love. I’m eager to return home to a less nomadic arrangement of my affairs and my experience, although I know I’ll miss meeting the dawn down on the shore for some yoga as the sun rises.

A last look, a moment to breathe the ocean air and hear the cries of seabirds, then the walk down to the cafe near the bus stop, to wait for my ride ‘back to the world’. This weekend has been emotionally productive, soothing, educational, and very worthwhile. Time well spent. There will be more to say, more to share, another day. This? This right here – this now – is still ‘my time’.

Best appreciated quietly.