Beaches and barrier islands

Returning from a camping trip on Ocracoke Island, the withdrawls set in. It is a barrier island off the coast of North Carolina that is only assessable by boat with a small village on the southern end leaving the northern portion uninhabited. Ocracoke was ranked America's #1 beach on Dr. Beach's yearly top ten. The village seems primarily survive from tourist, which reminded me of St. Augustine... making it even harder to leave on Sunday. It was so nice to be on the beach, feel the sun on my skin, and look out onto the water. I can't explain it, but it just feels so right when I'm on the beach. The trip made me realize that when looking for where to go after leaving NC in the spring, I need to focus my nrg on the coast. In being away from the beach and making it work elsewhere, I forget the simple nurturing that I find when being near the ocean.

The ocean is a powerful thing and every time I am near it, there is a humbling, contentment that washes over me and I know that everything will be ok. It is not that the ocean makes things ok in my life, it simply fills me up and in doing so, I am more able to endure life's little surprises and move more fluidly through turbulent times.

Living away from the coast, I become conditioned to what in essence is moving against the grain. Exerting endless amounts of energy to make things happen or to create what I think will make me happy, for the meantime, when all I need to to do is go to the beach for an afternoon.

Reflective times like these make me wonder why I have kept myself away from that which brings to much enjoyment and feels like an essential part of my life. Even more so, it makes me question why I am not looking to incorporate it into my future plans. I keep telling myself that I can be happy if I don't live near the beach, while all the time thinking I will return to it eventually, knowing it is where I belong... it is place I am the happiest.

Why then does it feel so far out of reach?

Another year has come and gone and I am one year older. Although I am still uneasy with the thought of growing old, my birthday was very pleasant. Unlike the majority of the population, the thought of growing old is frightening. Death I do not blink an eye at and often welcome, but the thought of growing old is one I do not think I will ever accept.

After years of dreading and ignoring my birthday, I welcomed this one with a big hug. Excitedly, I started the day, like a small child entrusted with a secret that only a few or perceptive people knew. It was not a secret, but it was one the little things, many would not acknowledge.

The day was pleasant, full of birthday wishes, cake, and a few thoughtful gifts. Although the day did not end as I may have hoped for, it was pleasant and fulfilling. To top it all off, I'm joining a few others this weekend on Ocracoke Island for a camping trip. It id the perfect way to end my birthday celebrations.

Waiting

She sits and waits... she has become a lady in waiting. Physically still, it goes unnoticed to others while internally, her mind races. She has been waiting for so long; sometimes she forgets what she's waiting for. Her thoughts lead her away, backward to the past and projected into the future. All the while the present has turned into the past and she missed it, like so many things in life, like her childhood. A time inaccessible as though it never happened, thrown into taking care of herself at a young age. Yes, it is a sad story, but pity is not what she seeks; it is understanding... and so she waits.

Shot of the day

Shot of the Day

Original image courtesy of Kolt Johnson

Going to Kentucky.....

What a motley crew
Me, Matthew [the groom], Ari [ the bride], Kat, Molly, Brian, and Reanna infront.

With mid August came a road trip to Kentucky. A few of the Geology folk loaded into a sedan and headed northwest through the mountains and into the "Bluegrass State." Unfortunately, no bluegrass was heard, but we did hop over the Ohio River and visit the Cincinnati Zoo, enjoy a relaxing evening in downtown Covington, attend a baseball game, [my first!], witness a beautiful wedding in the cathedral basilica, and partake of the celebration of Ari and Matthew's union [with the aid of an open liquor, beer, and wine bar]. Then, we were back on the road, Greenville bound. Leaving too soon.... but it always seem that way when returning to Greenville.

cute outfit ~= good attitude

cute outfit + compliment = good attitude



Why are so many of my perceptions and feelings based on others?

affable

easy and pleasant to approach and speak to; cordial. diffusing warmth and friendliness; gentle and gracious

... something not associated with me.

we see the world
thru our own 2 eyes
shaped and shifted
by lies, lies, lies

a farce of memories
lost in the pages
of a worn covered book
tossed away

Everybody has a story.... I miss hearing those stories. It's funny to think that years ago, I was sick of hearing people's stories. In the town I grew up in, people are always telling you their stories to the point where you come to not want to hear them anymore. But it's not like that everywhere. People don't seem to want to share their stories here.

An odd thing though is that a few books from past have been made into films. Recently, I saw that the book Into The Wild, written by Jon Krakaur, is the story of the life and death of Christopher McCandless, has been made into a film written and directed by Sean Penn. I remember really enjoying the book. It was a good story but was also very well written. The author did not just lay out the story chronologically, but relayed it as though you were uncovering the young man's journey, somewhat like a detective, trying to figure out what happened to Christopher McCandless. I look forward to seeing how it is depicted on the screen and listening to the story again.

Life's little showers

As she opened the window, to listen to the falling rain drops, she could smell the earth. It was as though the rain brought the earth to life, awakening it from a hibernatious drought. The grass looked greener; the leaves sparkled as the sun reflected off the water droplets and there was a silence, except for the falling rain. In moments like this, it feels like time stops. Yet, she knows, with each raindrop that falls, so does a second pass. It is within these moments, she wishes to stay, to breath in the heavy air and feel alive.

She's always loved watching storms. She reflects on a memory, one of her fondest, of enjoying a solitary afternoon on the beach, listening to the waves crashing on the shore. Then, as the dark clouds down the beach started moving closer, and the tourist ran for safety, she smelt the rain in the air, felt the temperature drop and heard the waves pick up. She watched the summer shower pass down the beach, gently moistening the warm sand crystals, and then it was gone. Like a wave on the beach, it had come and gone with little impact.

With the beach deserted she noticed there was one other person who had not ran for safety with the tourists and others. As he came into closer view, she realized she new him. It was Marc Sweet, the brother of a grade school friend. She had spent every weekend and some holidays with his family for the better part of 6th through 8th grade, although she had not seen any of them in a few years now. Marc was one of her friend Ruby's older brothers. There was also Lee; Lee was the oldest. She had had a tremendous crush on Marc for years, but everyone did. The whole family was very attractive. When she was younger, she often wondered if that was how it always was. Good-looking people get together and have good-looking kids.... it makes sense, using kid logic. If you were good-looking, you would be attracted to someone who was also good-looking and then your kids would automatically be attractive as well.

After the general salutations, Marc says, "Oh, can you believe Ruby's getting married?" A little surprised she said no, she hadn't heard. Not that she should be surprised. Ruby and Ralph had been together for years and everyone knew they would eventually get married, yet it some how did surprise her. "Wow," she said, "I didn't know." "Yeah," Marc replied, "it's weird that she's getting married before me, with Lee married." Then there was a silence as she took it in. It was the first one of her friends to get married, although she didn't really considered them friends anymore. She hadn't heard from Ruby in years. Still, it was a defining moment for her somehow.

While she was still taking it all in, Matthew wondered back to his truck, packed up his board and drove off. She thought how attractive he still was and remembered the childhood crush, yet those memories seemed so distant. She felt like the storm was in a way, introducing her to a new part of her life. Though she didn't know it at the time, she was entering the a part of life where, friends go their separate ways, get married, have kids, start careers, though not in that particular order.

As she sat at the window, looking out, she thought about how distant that memory now seems and how many summer showers she's watched come and go. Though she enjoys the storm and life it brings, she is still grappling with the friends she's lost along the way. As the sadness settles in, she realizes the rain has stopped and the clouds have moved on. She feels the sun's rays intensify and hears the birds begin to sing; she tries to relinquish the sadness and focus on the positive. She thinks of the many storms to come and friends she hopes to meet.

She thinks a lot about the past. Too much, she thinks, of people who have come and gone. Why do people have to go? Go, go, go is all people ever do. So much time has passed. She knows because her hair is long. It is long enough to cover her chest. The ends are wavy and when she sees them, it reminds her of the ocean and she smiles.

As the wind gently blows her hair off her shoulders behind her; it laps against her back and she can smell the moisture in the air. These are the days she loves. The air is heavy, weighing down, like a light blanket and comforting as such. The temperature is hot, but the rain brings a cool intermittent breeze. She falls asleep listening to the rain knowing when she wakes, the rain will be gone, like those she once held close.

Finally

After a frustrating struggle, last week there was a breakthrough with work and I am happy to announce I have finally found the backbone for the paper I've been bumbling through. Now I just need to finish writing it. While being unable to make headway on the paper. I've been complementing the infinite stack of scientific papers with some fictional works so as to igniting my appreciation for writing and word usage. In addition to doing so, I am currently trying to write a little every couple days, the first of which I posted here and will continue to post them as they come.

Anger filled her body, running swiftly through her veins, the residue of a bad dream. It seemed too real and the anger was all too familiar. She rose from a long sleep, yet exhausted from the dream, the way emotions are tiring. Turning on her pmp she steps into the shower. As the water temp is adjusted she hears it, one of his songs. Just a song to anyone else, but it is distinctly his in her mind. As thoughts of him weight on her heart she wonders why she hasn't deleted it, that song and every other thing that reminds her of him. How can she live her life being reminded of him, but she can't just delete everything that is associated with him. It would be a different life.

As the song changes, she pulls herself back to the task at hand: a shower. Let's not start the day sorrowful, she tells herself. Even the shower reminds her of him. The smoothness of his skin and his scent next to her bare body. It felt so comforting and safe to be in his arms, she remembers. How can he have hurt her... and now be with the last person she was close with. Hadn't he ruined her life enough?

There was nothing she could about it now. What was done is done. She focuses on her morning chores of watering the plants, caring for the dog, and making coffee. As she finishes up she notes the time and heads out to make her 10 o'clock appointment. As she listens to her bicycle tires on the pavement diligently and smoothly thrusting her forward in time and space, she wonders when the memories will fade. It's been two years, when will her life be her own again and not haunted by the past?

Peaks and Valley's

Even within the valley, there's a sh*t ton of hills.........

It still amazes me how I can wake up happy, be in tears by midday, and then smiling again by evening... all emotions centered around the project. The Project. It has become the focus of my life as well as the source aggravation and multiple meltdowns. Knowing the graduate school was going to be filled with feelings of floundering and frustration, I braced for what was to come; however, since arriving to NC and enduring this experience, my life has changed in more ways than I would have imagined. Like a person who finds they have cancer and dies within the week, relationships once strong quickly withered and now only exist in memories. A few new connections have been made, though shallow in comparison to the depth of those that have been lost.

However, reflections are not the point of this post; it is, that being the point, why has happiness' role been so slim within this experience? The reason I am pondering on this question is not to cause more internal aggravation and conflict, but because the time is approaching in which decisions are gong to be made as to the location of experiences and focus of the next chapter in my life, i.e. where I live and what I am going to be doing, a job, and I do not want to make the same mistake. Yes many lessons have been learned through this experience and I now know I am stronger than I had thought, but I have also learned that I give up more easily than before, do not try as hard, have become more hesitant, and recover just as slowly if not slower from being hurt.

So what have I decided? I haven't. I've been pondering this topic for a at least the past 6 months, but within the previous few months, it's been dominating thought processes. I guess I feel like I need something to work towards, to keep momentum, to carry me through this last year and send me into the next. So far, it hasn't presented itself, but perhaps the effort has been from the wrong direction. All I know is that I want to get this f*cking project finished and move on, but move onto what?

That is the question of the day, week, and year............

Love writes a letter and sends it to hate.
"My vacations ending I'm coming home late.
The weather was fine and the ocean was great.
And I can't wait to see you again."

Hate reads the letter and throws it away.
"No one here cares if you go or you stay.
I barely even noticed that you were away.
I'll see you or I won't, whatever."

Love sings a song as she sails through the sky.
The water looks bluer through her pretty eyes.
And everyone knows it whenever she flies.
And also when she comes down.

Hate keeps his head up and walks through the street.
Every stranger and drifter he greets.
And shakes hands with every loner he meets
with a serious look on his face.

Love arrives safely with suitcase in toe.
Carrying with her the good things we know.
A reason to live and a reason to grow
To trust, to hold, to care

Hate sits alone on the hood of his car
without much regard to the moon or the stars.
Lazily killing the last of a jar
of the strongest stuff you can drink.

Love takes a taxi, a young man drives
As soon he sees her hope fills his eyes.
But tears follow after at the end of the ride.
Cause he might never see her again.

Hate gets home lucky to still be alive.
He screams over the sidewalk and into the drive.
The clock in the kitchen says two fifty five
And the clock in the kitchen is slow.

Love has been waiting patient and kind.
Just wanting a phone call or some kind of sign.
That the one that she cares for who's out of his mind
Will make it back safe to her arms.

Hate stumbles forward and leans in the door.
Weary head hung down, eyes to the floor
He says, "Love I’m sorry" and she says, "What for?"
"I’m yours and that’s it, whatever
I should not have been gone for so long
I'm yours and that's it, forever
Your mine and that's it, forever"

~The Avett Brothers

Beach Bound

Tuesday we headed over to the OBX to try, once again, to retrieve a data logger that is MIA. After unsuccessfully searching, we headed to Canadian Hole, an area on the Pamlico Sound that is a popular wind surfing spot, and relaxed in the sun for a few hours before heading back to G-ville.

Being that Karza can't take the sun, I have frequently pondered ways to give her shade while on the beach and MacGyvered a shade tent with a sarong, cooler, and a few shovels. I was quite proud and excited that it worked. Karza was pretty stoked too not to have to wait in the back of the truck, her usual beach spot.

... and to bring it full circle, MacGyver was produced in Canada.