When we were camping last week, I realized that Max will spend the majority of his life here in California. That means the activities he’s exposed to will shape who he is. Already, his best friend (and yes, he’s 6) surfs. Kids of all ages longboard. There’s scuba diving, snorkeling and kayaking too. I love this.
I love that he may grow up to be an amazing swimmer in the ocean and get to participate in all these sports that we didn’t have in the south. Then again, he might not like them at all.
It’s just that California kids are different than kids anywhere else. I see that now. I’m happy to raise him in a place that gives my soul comfort food in the form of the ocean, which I’ve long drawn power from. I’m happy to raise him in a place where you can go camping right in the city and not worry about bad guys. I’m happy to raise him in a place that values eco-friendly products and practices.
In yoga, there’s a term, drishti. It’s a single point of focus that keeps you from falling over when you’re doing difficult poses. It centers and grounds you.
I started thinking about this as a broader concept to apply to our lives at large. Often, we don’t have our drishti, and we wander from relationship to relationship, or from job to job. Sometimes, even when you feel everything’s working (the way I did before I made the switch for my business), you still haven’t found your point of focus.
You know when you’ve found your drishti. The stars align. Everything works out. What seemed like an uphill trudge is now a joyful stroll.
The Hub and I have talked about how when you’re in your 30s, everything starts making sense. In your 20s, you’re still figuring things out. You’re broke and emotional and probably sleeping through college classes, not really sure where they’re supposed to take you. By your 30s, you may have settled into a relationship and be raising kids. You find a career. You make money. But beyond that, everything clicks.
I waited for that the day I turned 30. It didn’t happen. It’s taken 3 years, but I think this is it. Everything makes sense. It’s as if I’ve been trudging through Latin and suddenly I understand everything everyone is saying.
What’s your drishti, or have you found it yet? For me, it’s writing. It’s writing here, to share my thoughts diary-style with a handful of people. It’s writing for a living, which brings new and interesting topics into my life every day.
Let me paint a picture: for us, living in Arkansas then Florida, camping meant driving for hours into the woods, where the nearest place to buy groceries also sold bait. Trees surrounded the campsite, giving it a Blair Witch feel of solitude. Once you’re there, you ain’t leaving.
Now flash forward to California. There aren’t as many trees here, so campsites don’t afford much privacy. We recently camped at San Elijo Beach, just 20 minutes from home. It was different, and amazing.
First was the fact that our campsite was nestled on a cliff overlooking the beach. I could have stared at the waves and the tiny surfers for hours. We wandered down the many, many steps to play on the beach. Max flew his kite and I (unsuccessfully) looked for interesting shells.
The Hub did what he does best: grill. That’s our favorite part of camping-the food! Though I was tempted by the delicious smelling tacos in the nearby restaurant. Still-steak, potatoes and peppers, crunchy bread, cider.nothing could be better.
But I was also surprised at the sense of community. People milled about; kids rode their bikes and scooters without fear of strangers around the campground. There was a store and a restaurant at the center, which served as the social meeting spot. The Hub said it seemed like 1970s California, before people started closing off to others (remember? We ran around our neighborhoods like there were no such things as bad guys). It felt close, and I liked it.
I’m a city girl, but I do like to camp (for one night only) now and then. Still, when I realized I forgot my contact case (and glasses), I was extremely happy with the fact that across the street was a Trader Joes-esque grocery store (along with other cool shops). Unfortunately they didn’t carry cases, so I improvised with 2 shot glasses.
We got a dose of nature without it being overbearing or a long journey away. The train horn in the middle of the night served as a reminder that we’re not far from civilization-just far enough, in fact.
