Archives for posts with tag: Taft

I’m eating oatmeal and drinking a fairly uninteresting cup of hotel coffee. I slept in – I mean, for me – rather a lot; I didn’t wake up until 06:30, just as day break hinted at a new-day-to-come on the eastern horizon beyond the hotel room balcony. I sigh contentedly. I don’t even like oatmeal. lol That’s not the point.

Afternoon view from the hotel balcony.

I arrived yesterday in the late afternoon and started getting settled in… set my phone down while I brought my bags and pastels in to the room, and missed some pings from my Traveling Partner (after he had rather abruptly told me to stop pinging him because he was trying to use the phone) and he called me, worried about the prolonged lack of reply. I was fine. Everything was fine. “Nothing to see here.”

An exchange of pleasant messages a short time later managed to become a stressful conversation about an irritating eBay purchase for which we’re waiting on a refund. The circumstances themselves are annoying, and I very much want to see those resolved satisfactorily, but I definitely wasn’t seeking out opportunities to be stressed the fuck out about anything, just then. At all. Regardless of relative importance or the amount of money involved… I’m not here for that, right now. I have been teetering on the edge of “see a professional” levels of exhaustion and just frankly overwhelmed by having to do every fucking thing, basically all the time. (I recognize that a great deal of that stress and overwhelming effort is “emotional labor” vs actual physical workload, and that I do get some help with some tasks around the house from the Anxious Adventurer.) I say something about it to my partner, and he reminds me that I don’t have to look at – or respond to – his pings in real-time every moment.

…I think back to the earlier phone call and wonder how true that really is…

…I honestly don’t like leaving him hanging, and don’t want to miss responding to something truly urgent…

…Adulting is hard…

…Then I set expectations (again) that I’m going to lay down (because I’m in pain) and I set my phone aside and do that.

I wake to the sunset.

I wake to the ringing phone. I hadn’t meant to sleep… “Definitely tired,” I think as I answer the phone. My Traveling Partner greets me with a loving tone and an apology (for being cranky earlier and stressing me out) – he called because he realized I was likely to crash hard and possibly sleep past the point I’d wisely pause for healthy calories. He was right. He generally is right, about most things he bothers with at all. I’m grateful. I go across the road to the food carts and get some tasty Indian food, a nice treat. We chat briefly when I return. He misses me. I get it – I miss him too. (and I also miss me.) I’m grateful to have a partner who supports me taking care of myself in this way…and we sometimes benefit from a chance to miss each other. Perspective.

I wasn’t up much longer last night than it took to “let dinner settle” (I don’t enjoy waking up to acid reflux, so I avoid going to bed on a full stomach). I ended up calling it a night at a more or less typical time (for me), after a pleasant shower.

I woke this morning, after “sleeping in”, to a lovely new day. The sound of sea birds on the bay. The sound of ocean waves beyond the channel. A view of day break and dawn yet to arrive. Lovely. I made oatmeal and hotel coffee; I have no need to rush around doing anything more than this. I’m here, now, making the most of an opportunity to rest. This is an endeavor that has a surprising number of verbs, itself, frankly – they’re just different verbs. lol

Time to begin again. It’s a new day.

My phone pings me an alert from the security camera; the Anxious Adventurer on his way to somewhere. I send him a quick good morning message, and ask if he remembered to make coffee for my Traveling Partner (I’m clearly not there to do that!). New habits, especially short-term, can be easily overlooked, and I truly need the backup on this – not checking in on it this first morning seemed unwise. This? Right here? This is one of the major drivers of my fatigue; I struggle with feeling responsible for “all the things”, almost all the time. It’s probably a trauma-based character flaw of some kind. I breathe, exhale, and relax – and let myself return to this place, and this moment.

I open the balcony door to let in the fresh ocean breeze. I sip my coffee and write. A little later, once there’s plentiful daylight and the delights of the sunrise have been savored from here, I’ll go walk on the beach, reflecting on life and love, and feeling life’s minutes tick by gently. Later still, I’ll return to the room with fresh coffee, properly made by some professional coffee-making establishment, and set up the pastels for a day of painting and creative musings, listening to love songs and sea breezes. G’damn I needed this restful time. I’ve been pushing myself so hard, and so little of that effort has anything at all to do with me. I don’t resent service to family, hearth, and home – it’s not that. I’m just tired. It’s been a lot, and I am one mere mortal woman with my own limitations. I can only do so much for everyone else, before I have to stop, just stop, and do something for me. Rest. Paint. Wander. Exist quietly for a time without external observations, however helpful – a moment to simply be. Now and then I need a couple days alone with the woman in the mirror.

…Then I can begin again.

Appearances are funny things, aren’t they? I’m sipping my morning coffee late into the morning, because, honestly, why not? I am “on vacation”, taking some solo time on the coast to meditate, reflect, read, write, and walk. I’ve gotten some good pictures.

I am, in this moment right here, watching the tide turn from the low a short while ago, reversing direction, and now flowing back, with high tide expected at 13:48 this afternoon. Low tide reveals the mud flats of Siletz Bay, enjoyed by the many sea birds that inhabit the area. The birds traverse the mud flats in flocks and individually, seeking tasty morsels in the mud. People watching the birds (and the tides) walk the adjacent beach (and in some cases, right on across the mud flats, too), sometimes alone, sometimes with children or dogs.

Siletz Bay at low tide.

Funny that the water of the nearby branch of Drift Creek seems to flow backwards as the tide turns. Instead of subtle waves that demonstrate the direction that the creek flows into the bay, then on to the ocean just beyond (visible from my balcony), now the waves suggest that the water is flowing upstream… and… I guess it is, at least in the sense that the tide has turned and is now returning the waters to the bay that flowed outward only a few hours ago. My eyes deceive me just a bit; intellectually, I am confident that the creek continues to flow into the bay, and on to the sea, I just can’t see that it is happening, due to tricks of the light on the surface of the water showing me only the most surface movement, which is definitely the tide coming in.

What is “the truth of it”? Well, the bay is refilling as the tide comes in. That’s true. The creek continues to flow from it’s source into the sea. Also true. The tide comes in, the tide goes out, in a very regular predictable way – another truth. I value these small points of certainty in a very uncertain world. Ducks, geese, gulls, herons, and cranes enjoy the shallow waters. I enjoy them as they do. It feels rather as if even the joy itself …flows.

It’s been a lovely couple of quiet days here alone at the beach. This funny somewhat run-down hotel I favor here gives me the room for solitude that I need. They’re very accommodating and appreciative any time I come for a stay. This room is my “new favorite”… Room 310. It’s long past its glory. The upholstery is faded, worn, and dingy – threadbare in places, and of a tired sort of green that doesn’t hide dirt well. The carpet is also worn. The wood furniture is chipped, dinged, and shows signs of age and mistreatment over many years of guests. The walls have been repaired in places, and there are places on the ceiling that hint at past flooding from above. It’s a funny room with a wedge-shaped layout that is a bit more spacious than most rooms here. The small bathroom reflected the care taken by the staff; so clean it almost seems to belong in some other hotel, newer, more modern, perhaps. I feel lucky that the mini-fridge is not noisy (they usually are). This room also has “more view”, with one big window facing the bay, and then the balcony facing the ocean. Lovely. The views are spectacular and have occupied my attention thoroughly.

My days are filled with walking the beach here at the foot of the hotel, and sitting on the balcony, or at the table by the window, meditating, and bird-watching. My head is filled with my own thoughts – and the quiet of wind and waves, and the calls of gulls filling the silence. Pleasant. I could come here often and never get bored. I don’t need much more out of this experience than I am getting; it’s the solitude that I was seeking, and I definitely found it here.

I could have written more. Didn’t. I’ve been content to spend the days in quiet reflection, absorbed in my own thoughts, on my own time. It’s been enough. More than enough; it’s what I needed.

I watch the water continue to slowly fill the bay as the tide comes in. The pattern of sand, mud, water, and waves changes with each tide. It’s interesting to watch, and to note the variations. I find myself wondering, if I sat here by this window watching long enough, would I see the pattern repeat at some point? Are the variations finite? As the bay fills, I see seals in the deeper areas, playfully enjoying a swim. There’s a sandy bar on which they gather to rest and soak up the sun, across the inlet to the bay from the beach where local fishers like to go. The seals and gulls compete with the fishers for the various fish and crabs that are so desirable. It’s a popular spot. Early in the mornings, I walk down the beach in the direction of the inlet, and the ocean, listening to the waves roll in. In the afternoons, I take the same (or similar) walk. It’s convenient to the hotel, and the variety that comes of weather and the passage of time is enough to entertain me endlessly. I’m certainly a long way from being at all concerned about “boredom”. lol

The ocean, visible just beyond the inlet to the bay.

…Tomorrow I return home…

…For now, there’s still today.