Lesson from a Stranger

Sunday I woke up with a hankering to go to the beach. I had a ton of things to do, but since I had no kid and no real interest to do those things I decided to hit the road. Driving is where I do my best thinking. It’s where I say the best prayers. It’s also where I belt out my favorite songs from my iPod like I’m a rockstar! (Adam Levine and I sing in the same key…it’s awesome!)

I had a plan for the beach… finish a book, think, catch up on magazines, think, further my tan, think, take a gazillion pictures. What wasn’t in my plan… chit chatting with a stranger. That’s not really my thing. That would require my being social, but as I was taking some pictures off the rocks, this lovely lady who was named Shirley, but who looked exactly like Florida from “Good Times”, approached me. She asked me if I was a photographer. (How many photographers use their iPhone?) I told her I wasn’t, but that I loved taking nature shots. We talked for a few minutes and she just exuded niceness. She made you feel at home even though you just met her. Those people are amazing. I am not one of those people. At the end of our chat, she shook my hand and told me to enjoy my day. And that was that. Or so I thought.

Once my phone died, the pictures came to an end and I started following the rest of my plan. But the book and magazines didn’t hold my interest very long. And before I knew it, I realized I was all thought out. For a habitual overthinker like me, this was an almost epic revelation. I had gotten this amazing clarity that precluded the need to troll the far corners of my brain like usual looking for something to overanalyze. Instead my mind wanted a break. It just wanted to look around and take in everyone else.

Some people can make people watching an Olympic sport. Me, I’m so oblivious half the time, it never dawns on me to watch other people. Case in point, I was at that beach for two hours and never once looked at another person other than when Shirley approached me. But as I sat there with nothing else to do but no desire to leave the beach, I became an owl and craned my neck from left to right just watching. To my left was this adorable black lab puppy who was still so young it was a little fur ball. To my right was this well-chiseled man who was throwing his toddler up in the air and catching her (which could explain the muscles). And in front of me was the most delightful sight of all. Shirley and a little girl writhing in the sand letting the waves hit them. Shirley wasn’t even wearing a bathing suit but she was neck deep in the water letting the little girl lie on her back as the waves moved them about (Shirley was in white pants too—brave woman!) She didn’t appear to have a care in the world and she was very much in the moment.

As I watched them laughing, I had this urge to get in the water. That was not part of the plan. But they made it look so fun. So I ran and did a quick change and then put myself in the ocean. Eventually I drifted over to Shirley and the little girl (who I found out was her niece) and just stayed in their proximity soaking up their joy and creating a little of my own. (Incidentally, a wave took me out and so I’m pretty sure this old man got some joy of his own when one of The Girls popped out of my suit. I thought I got it put back under wraps quick enough, but when I looked up, I saw the man looking. There. I guess boobs are like car accidents; you just can’t look away. I mouthed the word ‘sorry’ while I tucked myself back in which only made him grin. I was embarrassed. But then I just started laughing. I mean what else could I do but laugh?? Shirley laughed too.)

As I was leaving, Shirley was back with her family and they all spoke as I was walking away. They all gave me the biggest smiles and wished me a blessed week. She has no idea her ability to live in the moment had inspired me to do the same. And it continued as I drove past a sports bar with a Reggae band playing out front and I thought to myself “why not?”. So I went to the next intersection, did a u-turn and pulled into the parking lot of the Lazy Pirate where I had dinner and listened to live music in the beach breeze. I didn’t care that a sports bar was not part of the plan. I didn’t care it was 8:00 at night and I still had to drive home. I didn’t care that I was by myself. It was so atypical of me, but I believe it was the perfect ending to a day of really being in the moment. I should do that more often. I bet Shirley would agree.