The Yellow Door Life

I’ve had plenty of practice being alone. Honestly, you would think I would be good at it by now.

After having spent a week alone at the beach, I have now decided I prefer the term solitude. 

Yes, they mean the same thing, but solitude feels less negative. 

It feels more like a choice, rather than a sentence. 

It feels like freedom, rather than a tragedy. 

I’m a social creature by heart, and have spent most of my life surrounding myself with family, friends, coworkers, dogs, etc. Even when surrounded by people though, I always felt something was missing. Turns out all the people in the world could not fill the void of:

1. God
2. Myself

I never let God go completely, but I definitely wandered in and out of situations he was not fond of, and I lost track of what it meant to have a relationship with him. Once I got that on track, I then realized I didn’t have a relationship with myself. 32 years and I didn’t actually understand who I was. 

Seems strange doesn’t it? When was the last time you ate alone in a restaurant and didn’t feel awkward? Or have you? Have you ever taken a solitary vacation? Have you ever driven hundreds of miles with no music, podcasts, or phone calls, and just sat with you? 

Solitude is not a negative thing at all. Solitude is a necessity that most of us are missing. 

For many years, I longed to plan a solo beach trip so I could literally sit in the sand and find myself. Why I ever waited so long, I’ll never know, but this May, I finally did it. 

I packed up my car with my suitcase, bag of journals (yes you read that right, BAG OF JOURNALS), oxygen concentrator, beach chair and umbrella, and bag of snacks, and headed due south to Gulf Shores, AL. 

I spent the drive down contemplating what the week would bring. From the weather to wondering if the love of my life would be playing volleyball on the beach Maverick style, I dreamed the possibilities. 

After 8 hours on the road, I was ready to see some dang ocean and that’s what kept me going till my feet hit the sand and there was nothing between me and what is beyond. 

I didn’t know what I was going to learn about myself over the next few days, but each activity came with a lesson, or three.

Blue Lagoon, Hole 13, Par 3

I grew up in Walsenburg, CO. If you don’t know where that is, or that it even exists, you’re not alone. 

When we visited Colorado Springs for the first time, I told my Dad I was a city girl. He just laughed. To me, Colorado Springs was a big city compared to Walsenburg. It had tall buildings and cool places like Champions Golf & Games (if you know, you know). I used to love playing mini golf with my Dad, and my Aunt, and various friends throughout my life. 

It’s one of those things that’s part of me. Different courses, different memories. 

1st activity planned for my solo vacation? You guessed it. 

In all my years of mini golfing, I have never gone alone, but it was some of the most fun I have ever had. The course was empty. Just me, a blue putter, a yellow ball (of course), and a beautiful May day. 

Each hole I laughed at myself when I missed the easiest shots and celebrated when I did well. I kept looking around to see if anyone was watching this crazy lady talking to herself on the mini golf course, but I remained on the course alone.

As I finished up hole 13, I decided to sit for a minute. In the shadow of a man made volcano, I realized life is a work in progress. I am a work in progress, and will always be. That’s how it is for us all. If you find you reach a point where you feel like you no longer need to grow, you’re missing the point. Life is growth. The goals may change, the daily routine may look different year to year, but life is about growing, evolving, and trying.  

I love mini golf because even if I have a terrible game, I can always go pay for another round and begin again. 

Lessons: 

• You don’t have to keep score. It’s not going to matter in the long run. 
• Life is a work in progress – a list that will never end. It’s meant to be that way. 
• Grace is a lot like par. Some days you are going to need more than others. That’s normal. Give it to yourself.

Walking at a Lizard’s Pace 

If you know me well, you know that many years ago I would tell you how much I hate hiking. Being in nature was not a walk in the park; it was filled with bugs, unpredictable weather, and shoes falling off while rappelling down a 100-foot rock. 

It was also an activity where I had trouble breathing. 

When I was a kid, doctors called it asthma.

When I was a teenager, I was a smoker.

When I was a young adult, I was out of shape. 

Now we know, it was all the above and more, not to mention Colorado air is thin and sucks. 

Planning a hike was not part of any vacation I had ever taken, but since I have moved to the south, hiking is part of my weekly routine. 

My planned hike for this trip was on a beautiful trail that mixed woods with a lovely trek along the water. On this particular morning, I found myself alone, yet again, for the majority of the hike. 

I listened to the sounds of birds fluttering through trees. I prayed pretty much constantly that I wouldn’t run into any snakes (an ongoing hiking prayer of mine). I stopped to breathe, feel the ground beneath my feet, and stare at ponds filled with lily pads. I watched lizards scurry on and off the path, trying to avoid my invasive feet. 

As I rounded out the trail, a particular lizard decided he would stay on the path with me, so I decided to go at his pace. He’d scurry a few inches, I would take one step forward. 

Eventually he’d move a few feet at a time, and I would follow. 

He stopped at one point, which you can see in the picture below (or perhaps not, he was a tiny guy), looked back at me, and made his way into the woods. 

It’s odd to let a tiny lizard dictate your pace on a hike, but it’s also weird not to. We are so busy getting THROUGH everything that we forget to actually enjoy what we’re doing, while we’re doing it. 

Lessons: 

• Stop feeling like you have limitations. Your pace is not a limitation, it is simply YOUR pace. 
• Walk with the tiniest of creatures, for the smallest spirits may teach you the most valuable lessons. 
• Never forget bug spray when you travel to Alabama.

Forgiveness, Beachside

Jami reminds me often that healing is not just about the food I consume, it is a marriage between mind, body, and spirit. I can do protocol forever, but if I don’t believe in the healing and where it comes from, it’s not going to happen.

As I have continued to wrap my brain around this over the last 5 months, I felt compelled to add regular work into my routine to help on the spirit side of things. 

My heart has been stressed out, literally from the PAH, and emotionally from the stress, heart break, and fear. I knew that part of my healing was going to come from forgiving all the people who have ever hurt me. 

Sounds exhausting right? 

It is one of the most fulfilling parts of my life right now. 

Some people pop into my head randomly, some are ones I have held onto for far too long, dreading the thought of them, not feeling ready to forgive them.

As all these people come to mind, I journal my experience of them, my prayers for their lives, and I let them go. Just like that.

I have found when my thoughts stray to these people post-forgiveness, I feel no anger, nor resentment. I just feel peace. 

The best part of the condo I rented was its proximity to the beach, but also its balcony which faced the ocean. There was no definition between dark ocean waters and night sky, but I could hear the waves. 

There was a particular group of people I needed to forgive. I had been holding onto them, waiting for the right time. This was the time to give my heart a much needed rest.

I sat on that balcony, in the dark, at nearly midnight, and let the tears flow and I forgave each of them. I said goodbye and let that energy wash away into the Gulf. 

Lessons: 

• Remove toxic people from your life, but never forget to forgive them. It’s part of YOUR detox. 
• Beach air is special air. Breathe it deeply and let it remind you how beautiful this world is.
• You’re never too old to search for shooting stars.

Can Someone Please Build Me an Adult Sandbox?

If we’re going to run with the belief that everything is connected, we cannot forget that we are connected to this planet. Literally, we are bound to it by gravity, but we forget there is a purpose to that. God is brilliant and gave us exactly what we need. 

The ground on which we walk is part of us. It’s part of our journey, story, and energy.

As someone who fears stepping on a snake more than anything in this world, you won’t find me running around Pocahontas style very often. Except on the beach. 

I am a huge fan of sand. 

Some people hate it. 

I watched a small boy freak out on his parents as they walked down the boardwalk, as he came to terms with the reality that they were dragging him to the beach again. 

“BUT I DON’T WANT SAND IN MY SHOOOOOOES.” 

I drove 8 hours to literally stick my feet in sand, and this poor kid felt about sand the way I do about snakes. 

The earth is part of the equation. Grounding has been practiced since the dawn of time, but the simplest things always seem lost on us.

You set foot on it everyday, but how much do you actually appreciate it?

Lessons:

• Sometimes doing nothing at all is exactly what you need to be doing. 
• Don’t be afraid to get sand in your shoes, or bring some back home with you. 
• Be grateful for the ground, the water, the air, and the sun. You wouldn’t be here without them and the one who created them.

Sunset to Sunrise

Being at what seems like the edge of the world, you find yourself in the perfect position to watch the sun set and rise each day. On my last night/morning in Gulf Shores, I tried to plan the perfect place to watch each. 

I wanted to dress up for my last night at the beach, so I put on a great dress I had brought for just this occasion and headed out to my chosen spot to watch the sun set. Turns out it was a bit windy outside and the entirety of my time watching the sunset involved holding onto my dress to keep the other sunset watchers from getting a free show. The sunset was largely masked by clouds, so I snapped my picture and hoped for a better sunrise.

When my alarm went off the next morning at 5:00 I was seriously confused by why it was going off when it was still dark outside. Oh. Yeah. It has been awhile since I was up at sunrise. In fact, the exact time I had last watched the sun rise was on September 1st, 2022, as I made my way across Kansas with 4 dogs, toward a new home and a new life. 

For this reason, sunrises will always be more special, because this girl RARELY sees them.

I dressed very comfortably for this occasion and set out down the boardwalk. The air was calm. The waves were largely the only sound, aside from a few people on the beach already fishing. I found a place along the boardwalk to stop and was soon joined by an older man who I had seen throughout my week there.

He was in his pajamas and the smell of his fresh brewed coffee was strong enough to mask even the sea air. He was polite when he said hello, but I quickly realized I was interfering with his solitude. Not wanting to ruin his morning routine, I made my way to the beach and found a new spot for my sunrise. 

As the time approached for it to rise, I got excited, only to find myself frustrated when there was still no action 10 minutes after the time my phone said it would rise. 

I left the beach and headed back up the boardwalk when I saw it. Turns out coffee guy had picked that spot for a reason. There in perfect, plain sight was the sun. Since he had already gone back to his condo at this point, I was able to sit and have my moment with God’s creation. 

I just talked about how important the earth is, but without that sun, earth wouldn’t exist. He gave us everything we need, and yet we still can’t seem to get it right. 

I want to live in a world where everyone gets up to watch the sun rise. That level of gratitude would change everything. 

Lessons: 

• Check for wind before wearing dresses. 
• Getting up before the sun is always worth it. Always. 
• No sunset or sunrise is ever going to be the same as the next. They may not be perfect. Find the beauty anyways.

Ultimately, what did my beach solitude teach me? 

1. The work is never done. I will spend the rest of my life, discovering my life, and that is EXACTLY how it’s supposed to be. 
2. Being alone is healing and it’s damn funny watching people confused by you being ok with your solitude. 
3. God answers prayers from the past, present, and future, at all times. It makes no sense and all the sense in the world. He may just be answering prayers that I prayed long before I knew what I was really praying for. 
4. Whoever you haven’t forgiven yet, it’s time. Do it for you, not them. 
5. Get in the photobooth by yourself. Seriously, just do it.

For me, the sound of solitude is waves crashing on a shoreline, and Cher blaring on two lane highways, and silent wishes being made on dark night skies, whether there are shooting stars present or not. 

The funny thing is the solitude is not going to last forever, I know that now. The solitude is the groundwork that was missing all along. Be with God. Be with yourself. Then be with the people meant to be in your life.