Thursday, August 8, 2013

Here's to the meaning of life, and discernable triceps.




We were at the beach with The Goonies rock--Thanks to my friend Vanessa who told me later. I had no idea.

Boathouse on the Willamette River.

I was told recently by a friend that your late 20's to early 30's are prime "figure yourself out" time. My reaction was, "Crap." Because it's generally true. While my early twenties were devoted to discovering I liked wearing the cast offs of nursing home patrons, this point of my life seems to be all about figuring out my inward emotional stuff I avoided for ten years. It probably comes with being a mom. Children can bring your best and worst qualities to the surface, and once you see them they must be dealt with or accepted. Also, you actually have to divide your time efficiently among your interests/chores of life. But what are they? Will I fail? Why am I suddenly upset at things I used to not care about? Why do I have so much anxiety and shame and embarrassment when a lifegaurd yells at me? (It happened to me yesterday when I tried to go down a slide with Margot that was too small, and I wanted to shrivel up and pretend I wasn't born.) Life was so much easier when I was childless and self absorbed to the point that I was in complete denial of myself!

But while I don't have many answers yet, (just potential therapy bills) I have discovered how much I love water. It may have been living a year in a state almost completely devoid of it, although living above a beautiful but far away lake view often spared my sanity. This summer I love being in and around the water. I've been taking rowing/crew lessons, which I am loving and may always be a part of my life now. It gives you such a zen feeling while giving you a great workout. I've realized it's kind of the chess club of water sports, with speed boats towing wakeboarders zipping around you in circles and college boys chanting "Row! Row! Row!" And that somehow makes me all the more enamored. I've also tried paddle boarding recently, and I'm not very good but I like it. We also went to the beautiful Oregon coast this week and it felt so amazing to be there. Mostly because I love wearing a sweatshirt in the summer. Being on or around the water somehow dilutes (har) all that busy thought in my head that keeps me on the edge of a panic attack lately. It sorts my life into priorities, and makes the drama less dramatic. It's not a new tactic, I know, but it works.

I know I can't row a boat continuously until I'm 35, but while I'm in the middle of figuring out if I need to let go of a few old lady dresses (already know the answer to that--NO) I will take advantage of my four hour weekly water therapy. And Jon will take advantage of being able to run on the treadmill while watching his favorite zombie shows that I hate.

Now, what do do when the rain comes back? Maybe I'll take up seed bead necklaces or knit a huge blanket. Suggestions are encouraged.

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