volume fifty-six
if I spent a week without you, bet you’d wonder what I’d do
This week I have been housesitting in Half Moon Bay, California. It’s possibly the most perfect place I have visited.
Not just for the obvious (pictured) but for the aspects I didn’t know would hit me as hard as they did. As a regular reader of this substack, you might have noticed how much my life has slowed down in recent years. I have traded past life chapters of late nights and work addiction (among other addictions) for writing, early mornings, relaxing travel and working as much as I need to but not any more than that. And yes, all of this is a work in progress. All of this is easily derailed when I have somewhere to be so the day is rushed, or my phone rings, or the sirens outside don’t let up, or my emails overtake the day and before I know it, it is 6pm, or there are financial obligations that grow that need for work.
But not here.
Have I brought my remote work with me? Of course. But something is different. The only outside sounds that I hear are the crashing of the waves and the next-door neighbour’s windchime. The only emails I open are the ones I need to as I feel stripped of this need of urgency as there are no deadlines or places I need to get to. The only place I have to be later is wherever I feel like going — maybe a long beach walk, maybe a bike ride, maybe exploring downtown and realising there isn’t all that much to explore in the best way, maybe getting another ice cream.
On Sunday, I walked along the ocean in search of a place the internet told me had Sunday afternoon live music. I didn’t find the music and had walked quite some distance at this point when I didn’t find it.
I found myself heading back to the house and for a split second I thought ‘ugh, that was a waste of time, how boring”. But then I very quickly corrected that thought. Had I found the live music? Nope. Had I enjoyed a few hours out of the house, in the sunshine? Yes. Had I, as a result of leaving the house, seen a cute seal bopping along in the waves? Had I taken a different turn on the way back and surprisingly got myself a salted caramel ice cream? Did I stop into a beautiful store only to get talking to the store owner and two lovely customers, with who we ended up helping each other pick stuff out? Did I stumble upon another smaller beach with only two other people on it? Did I get to stop and enjoy the surfers coming in? Did I get to make it home earlier than planned for cuddles with the pets and a writing session on zoom with a dear pal? Yes to all.
None of this was the plan, but it was far from boring.
Previous years would have seen me whining when things didn’t go my way. I could hear myself as I thought about it. I could hear myself considering the day ruined, the day wasted, the day over. I could see myself saying well fuck it then and heading to the liquor store for excess wine only to be asleep on the couch within a few hours having missed all of the bliss. The most minor of inconvenience and the slightest inkling of slowing down were once totally unbearable for me.
I love to feel bored now. Because it is not boredom at all. I love to have no plans now instead of filling every hour with what is next in my calendar in order to squash it all in, because no plans are where the room for spontaneity lies. With no plans — and no worries if loose plans fall through — I have the luxury that leads to taking a pause and watching the ocean with no stress about having somewhere to be.
How nice it has been to wake up and make several choices instead of sticking to a strict schedule. Maybe I decide to pop on some blues while I slowly make breakfast, something I couldn’t have chosen with somewhere to be. Maybe I get some gentle yoga down mid-morning instead of squeezing it in right now or I will never have the time! Maybe I am out and about and get hungry so decide to pop into a local restaurant and eat some of the most delicious Thai food I have ever had. Maybe I make the choice to turn down a different street when I am walking the dog and stumble upon a whole new part of the neighbourhood. None of this would have happened if I was in a rush — rush for a meeting, rush to get to a bar, rush to get back to my to-do list, rush, rush, rush through life.
In the past, I would have come to a place like this and thought “okay wow it sure is pretty but there is nothing to do”. Now I am here and thinking “is eight days enough?” and wondering when I can get back. In the past when I thought there was nothing to do, I would have meant there is nowhere to go and blink and miss the day by drinking alongside other people doing the same, or working like mad all day just to “earn” the drinks at the end. Here I am being stopped constantly by strangers due to the adorable dog leading my way on walks, and loving finding out great information from locals, and even more so talking with fellow tourists who have just arrived who ask me what there is to do here. I am relishing the fact that I get to smile and tell them it is perfect for slowing down, how it is okay, it took me a couple of days to settle into it too, and here are all the things I have loved doing while here that support that.
The days here are long. Very long. And yet, still could be longer. Sobriety, age, rediscovering writing, quitting my (at the time of getting it) dream job last year in order to try and step back from work being my entire life — all of this has resulted in slowing down and enjoying the slowdown. My mindset has shifted.
I remember while working at my dream job (and I keep saying that because for the longest time it was my dream, then I changed and the world changed so my dreams changed) we did an exercise with a coach they brought in to assess our personality types and I was the only one on the entire team who held the trait of living in the future and I felt so proud of that. So superior to think, yes I am planning ahead and thinking of what is to come and doing the work now to make sure it happens. This applied to every part of my life, not just work. I have felt that shift since everything else shifted, trying, desperately, to be in the moment and unlearning old habits that die hard. I guess, here, I am far less preoccupied with worrying and planning the future and literally — and finally — taking each moment as it comes.
Do you long to slow down? Do you get to slow down often? How do you find ways to slow down when it gets tough? Is slowing down terrifying to you?
here are three things I struggled with this week:
🍦 What ice cream flavour to choose.
🏖️ Whether to walk up the left or the right side of the beach.
📰 Whether to read some of my book, the local magazine, to write or to do a crossword with my morning coffee.
here are three blessings from this week:
🌊 Constantly hearing the sound of the ocean reminds me of Nan and Pop’s place. Such a perfect sound.
🐾 I am surrounded by some super cute animals this week (a cat, a dog, some chickens, a bearded dragon and a guinea pig) and I love getting to know them and their quirks. Gosh, they’re all so funny and cute — like how the cat Princess Buttercup will sleep in the bed with me now, with her head on my shoulder, or how Daisy the dog likes to be picked up onto the bench seat with me when we go to watch the ocean in the mornings, or how the chickens cuddle up together when they snooze (and I named them Laverne and Shirley), or how the Guinea Pig (who got given the name Hammy for the week) will run and grab food from my hand then run back to her hiding spot, or how Cricket the bearded dragon soaks up the heat from the heat lamp all day but moves ever so slightly for feeding time, slowly opening his eyes to see if it is worth it before bothering to move.
✍️ Getting the words written. I wrote the first lines of a project a long time coming this week — words that of course came to me in the shower — and it propelled me to keep going. I am finally moving from the notetaking and into the actual writing (there will still be lots of notetaking).
here are three goals for the coming week:
😶🌫️ I will push to carry on this here-and-now mindset once I am home from this holiday, but I know it will be near impossible to balance. My goal in order to gently continue trying to get there is to think about the life I could live if I would allow it.
📆 I feel like this has been a goal many times, and hopefully one day I will bump it up permanently into the blessings section: make less plans.
🌉 Be more open to wow moments. I almost didn’t go to San Fran — when I was this close and have never been — I am so glad that I did, thanks to a pal taking me for the day. The Golden Gate Bridge disappearing into the fog was surreal. Maybe my goal is just to look up more.
here is something I enjoyed this week:
My friend Sasha was on a podcast talking about holidays, an escape for us when they weren’t possible for a long time, and still an escape for those who it is still not an option for. I loved listening to it.
The story took me away — even while here on this magical vacation I need no escape from — I happily drifted off into this story of a road trip taken years ago that transformed so many things. It’s a very wonderful seven minutes of listening. I also loved recognising a few others pals in previous episodes that I look forward to checking out soon, too.
pics or it didn’t happen:
I love you,
LD
xoxo
hi, lauren deborah! is free for subscribers every week. feel I am not sharing enough? ask me a question and I will answer it in a future post.
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What a wonderful and relaxing time. When you write about rest I feel like I got to be there with you and rest too. You’re so good at this!
Agree with Susannah. Beautiful essay. A song of summer.