Sitting by the water, early morning.  The sun already 30° on the horizon.  Pelicans float amidst gulls and a few cormorants.  The dogs lie at my feet, waiting for their walk.  Buster chews on a bone.

The wind already ruffles the water.  It’s day three of a big blow.  The other side is reportedly cold with the surf blown out. Guiliana, my Italian friend from SJ has hunkered down in Agua Verde, a pristine cove some 30 miles south of here down a treacherous canyon road.  She camped on the beach to stay warm.

During the night, I listened to  small wind-driven ways.  As I listened, I thought about what we allow ourselves to hear.  How we tune our receptors on and off. Sometimes for self-protection.  Sometimes because the bulk of the input just seems like noise.

When i finally ‘land’ here, I slowly untangle city thoughts and replace them with wind/sea/sky.  That self-hearing/self-healing begins to work its magic.  I stop caring what time it is.  Scheduling drops away.

I want to learn to be like this all the time – balanced in the core of my very being.  Safe in my self.