Manzanita is a nice little town. Life seems to revolve around tourism. We decided to head west first, despite my original plans to go east. I didn’t think I would back down, but something made me agree to go the other way. So we’re in Oregon. Nehalem Bay State Park.
I really need those quiet morning hours to collect myself, get my brain geared for the day.
John is dumping. There’s no sewer hookup here. We just left our spot to dump our gray tank. Somehow it’s nearly full and black is only ¼. John is worried about filling the gray tank again after letting it fill and come into the shower last week.
We’ve been out of our house for a week. Moments of homeless guilt have visited in that time. We are truly self-contained. We are living in, out-of, and around, a 31-foot moving playhouse. We get to pick every thing we do each day. We’re in charge. Of 4 young lives, of our own mid-life lives. Of our futures.
John and I went to a yoga class yesterday morning in a small warm studio on the main street in Manzanita, Yoga Roots. The instructor read a passage from a thick book, kinda like those English anthology books in college, with a lotus flower on the cover. Something she said/read triggered a catchy phrase in my mind. I liked it and imagined it as a web address or blog name. Now I can’t remember what it was. The yoga instructor’s reading focused on exposing one’s self in order to live. Something about standing up to be worn down, allowing that wearing down through the breath. The breath taking what’s no longer needed.
This morning we went to a small bakery, Bread and Ocean, that was closed Monday and Tuesday, the tourist town’s weekend. It was great. The breakfast rolls all looked wonderful, like the maker cared and possessed some skill. One of the most disheartening and disappointing moments is walking into a bakery to find half-hearted attempts in a case.
Tonight John started a fire and the kids had s’mores. We sat by the fire for a while after, listening to the ocean, looking up at the moon, watching the fire, with just the slightest chill in the air. It occurred to me that we are living the life of a lottery winner. I would guess that some people, including us, would decide to travel the country in an RV after winning a lot of money.
It may take some time to adjust, and I think we can find the right routine for us.