Sick

So, today's blog isn't going to be long or very interesting, I'm afraid. I'm sick. Upset stomach to the max.  Yuck.  So I've been in bed, under blankets on the couch or hanging out with the porcelain god. Not very exciting.

One of the odd things about being sick is that it enables you time to do nothing. Whether you like that or not, that's one of the consequences. I have found lately that my life is so busy with such inconsequential things and wasted moments that I don't mind being excused from life today.  Well, I mean, I do mind because I'm on vacation and I'd much rather be out enjoying myself, but in comparison with some of the ways I've chosen to spend my time lately, doing nothing and giving my body a chance to heal was probably more productive.  It just took some work to tell my brain to stop using the word, "should" all day. I should get up and help take care of my daughter. I should go down to the ocean while I'm here. I should clean up. I should do something. I SHOULD! ARGH!!!!

Is anyone else exhausted like I am about what they should do? Is it just me who's life is filled with too many shoulds to know what they want to do?

Perhaps I am alone in this matter. Trapped by the shoulds - like a cruel tormenting ghost hovering in front of me that I can't see past to know what I want to do, even if I had the time.

This is actually one of the main reasons for this trip - to get away from the shoulds. I've lost myself - isn't that why most people start a blog? - and I thought if I escaped the everyday life of home I might have a fighting chance to stop, think and realize who I am again. This makes me feel very sad and lonely. What else can I say about that?

It's not that I don't have some grasp of me: I know I'm a strong environmentalist and care very deeply about the future of our world. So much so that I work in the field even though I know it is slowly killing my love of the planet itself. (That's another blog unto itself.)  I know I'm a good mom. No, I really good mom. I wasn't sure I would be able to break the chain of not so desirable parenting habits of my family but I'm very proud of my parenting skills. I know I love my husband although I am very aware that we've become somewhat disconnected as of late - I think it's because we are still adjusting into parenthood. In any case, I know we are strong enough to talk about it (and have) and to work it through.

Other than that, I am nothing.  I have disappeared.  I've lost my nerve. If I was Austin Powers, I'd have lost my mojo.  But unlike the movie hero, there's no magic potion and although I've tried to just will it back, I feel ever transparent, thinned-out and stretched-out version of myself.

Perhaps this is why I'm sick. I force myself to ignore the shoulds and just be. Perhaps then I'll have a fighting chance at rediscovering myself.

I'm not so sure. And I feel like I'm running out of time to figure it out.

At the Edge of the Ocean - literally

I'm in Tofino, on what I imagine is the farthest west on Vancouver Island one can go without taking a dip. I've been here before so this isn't a piece on the revelations of seeing new places. In fact, it's likely to be more of a series of random thoughts based on the wish I was experiencing revelations.

But here I am. And as the title says, I'm on the edge of the ocean. And even without the traditional Fogust (August and Fog mixed together) that Tofino is known for, I can't see a thing.

So why am I here? - and in this sense, I mean here in the blogosphere. Well it's simple and lame - I can't write anything - not on paper, not in email, not in the sand even - without thinking before I write, that someone else is going to read what I write, so I had better make it something good. How lame is that? Seriously lame. I can't help it, or at least I don't think I can because I've really made an effort to stop feeling this way. So I'm blogging because I've heard that there are so many blogs and so many postings to blogs every day that there's really no chance that anyone is going to read this. This is my final attempt to write something that isn't self-censored. But of course it's not. Well not yet anyway. I still have hope that I will get to the day when the feelings come out, and transfer to my fingers, without reservation, judgement, self-loathing (can I spell?), or restriction. Time will tell.

And why am I calling this blog, At the Edge of the Ocean? Well, besides the fact that I'm out here in Tofino and it naturally fits, it's also for the place I feel within myself - on the edge of the ocean. Not on a window ledge. Not at a crossroads - because life would be simpler if there were only two choices - but on the edge of the ocean. Something wide, vast, unending and so compelling that you come back every year searching from it's edge for something. Searching. Always searching.

So here I am. Welcome to my brain, world. And for those of you who have happened upon my blog, my apologies.

Oh yeah, and I'll add a photo shortly.

Oh, and yeah, I love the Ivy song Edge of the Ocean too.