Losing Time: The Cost of Spontaneity This Week

Do you ever have one of those weeks where you just feel as if you’ve lost time?

As in, you look around you and you have, you know – basically nothing – to show for your days?

I mean, it’s not true. Entirely.

There’s been the care and the feeding of the folks I live with. There has been work accomplished. A decent amount, I suppose, if I’m really examining it closely.

And yet. It just feels like an off week.

It started off with a BANG. Maybe a little too much actually.

We’re all just paying the price of spontaneity I guess.

Sunday it just seemed like a good idea to see the ocean.

We texted some friends who, instead of thinking we were crazy, said, “Let’s go now!”

And it felt like a race against time. A race against the setting sun.

Would we make it in time to see the sun set on the beach???

(I mean, as much as the sun can set on the east coast, but you know.)

We tossed swimsuits and towels in the car. I just wore flip flops and didn’t bring an extra pair of anything.

And guess what?

We made it!

There were hardly any humans around.

Just in time, right on Sullivan’s Island. The most gloriously beautiful sort of colors everywhere. We were living in a watercolor painting.

Jacob and Hilary brought pizza to the beach.

I felt exactly like the kid who gets the privilege of doing the fun thing while the parents do the work. You know, like a kid playing in the park while Mom sets up the picnic.

The sun set. The beach was dark, lit up by the night sky and the lighthouse and the flickering lights of boats off shore.

I was giddy with its beauty.

Plus, the sense of being free. The pleasure of being spontaneous. The gift of being outside.

The three grown ups just rested on the towels, eyes to the stars, a mutual feeling of Right Place, Right Time. The kids swam in the darkness, feeling bold and adventurous.

They called us out to the water to see the sparkling in the ocean. When they splashed, they stirred up – I don’t even know what – but maybe creatures or plankton (I don’t care for facts here) but whatever it was – it sparkled! It’s true! Some sort of magical bioluminescent miracle. There were little sparkles – like ocean fireflies – all over.

It was the dreamiest sort of night. Absolutely worth the drive straight across South Carolina.

The next day was breezy. Full of sun. The ocean was warm. The waves calling our names. Really, just the perfect sort of getaway day.

We were all playing hooky – skipping school and ditching work and embracing flexibility and seizing the day and all that.

And I’m endlessly glad we did.

It felt – just right. My entire being took in a giant gulp of air and I felt like I could breathe clearly.

Of course, we came back to severe sunburns. Worse than we’ve had in … ever. Blisters.

And that’s kind of what brought us to a week that has just been …. limping along.

Like – it’s hard to leave your house when wearing undergarments hurts. Too much information? Whatever.

So this week, not only am I thankful for spontaneous adventures, even when the cost is high, but I am also thankful for grocery pick up without ever having to enter the store and a job that can truly be done in pajamas in whatever comfortable position I can muster, school that can be flexible to look a little different until the pain eases for one sweet blister-faced daughter. And home.

As much as I love leaving – I also love staying.

My life is pretty lucky that way.

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