An Ode to the Pacific Ocean

Labor Day Weekend

I am sitting at the Windensea Beach in San Diego, California as I type this newsletter today.

Hold up, I want to back up for a moment -

In the 1980s, my dad frequently talked about how people will one day be able to take their office anywhere. He talked about sitting at the beach, enjoying the waves and the sound of the seagulls, and be able to work in this relaxing atmosphere instead of being [metaphorically] chained to your office.

And here I am, doing just this. Typing on my iPad (with full keyboard) at the beach in San Diego.

[Photo of a sandy beach, with ocean waves taking up the middle third of the photo, and blue-gray sky on the top third of the photo. A seagull stands on the beach on the left side of the photo, peering at the camera, and a wave in the ocean crests as a surfer comes out the right side of the wave.]

I am visiting a friend who is going through a rough patch in life. I did this last year, too - visited another friend for a week who was going through a rough patch.

Last year’s friend initially turned me down when I offered, but I insisted. I said, “I happen to not have any doctors appointments this week, or anywhere to go.” So she and I negotiated for me to come for a week around very snowy weather in both Kansas (where I live) and Colorado (where she lives).

You know what I did for a week at her house? I cleaned her kitchen. We had conversations over tea & coffee. I explored her fun collections of things. And I sorted a project that needed sorting that had long ago overwhelmed her.

And I had fun doing it. It was nice to realize I can help someone who is in the weeds of life and just needed a helping hand to get back on track.

She was so grateful for the help. I am so grateful I was able to drop my life and go help.

This week, I am helping another friend who flew me in to this area because she had planned a vacation here & found herself without the person she had intended to go with. So she invited me.

So here I sit, at the beach, on Labor Day weekend, typing a newsletter for folks like you to read.

When I can’t think of a word, which is often, I hear the surf crashing down in front of me. This is so much nicer than looking down and seeing a corporation’s choice in carpet at an office.

My friend hugged me last night. She said, “I don’t know that anyone else I know could have spontaneously dropped their whole life to come with me on this vacation. Thank you for this. I really needed this.” [note - in case people wonder how I pulled this off: she spent points to get me the plane ticket & the hotel was already paid for.]

You know what I realized last night? I realized that even though I don’t have money, I have wealth.

I have determined my priorities in life - finally - at age 50+. My priorities are: being treated well, helping others when I am able to while still taking care of me too (the whole, “put your own oxygen mask on first” analogy I’d heard my whole life & never understood more than in that literal way), playing violin, writing down the deep thoughts I think that might help others in some ways, and traveling to see the places I have always wanted to see. I have seen most of the rest of my North American list this year!

I cannot tell you how many times I was employed and being sexually harassed or being bullied by co-workers and managers and had to quit, or was fired because my neurodivergent brain doesn’t fit in with a Type A personality.

At this point in my life, I have wealth. I am no longer chained to a job with a boss who is a bully.

If a friend is in need because their life has become unbearable, I can drop everything and go to them and help tend to their emotional needs for a week while doing simple things like cleaning their kitchen or making them tea, or reminding them to drink water.

I remember my dad used to say, “my last name is ‘Crump,’ it rhymes with ‘Trump,’ only we’re rich and he has money.”

I finally understand that this is true for me too - I don’t have money (and that brings a LOT of stressors I don’t talk about in this newsletter), but I have wealth. I have the wealth of time. Especially considering that I can only really work for about 1-3 hours in any given day due to my constant physical and mental health limitations.

I have had more than my fair share of trauma (my latest psychiatrist validated this the first day she met me). And it’s had a huge impact on my physical and mental health and also on my brain health.

I can’t remember the books I used to want to write. My brain has been destroyed compared to where it used to be. I am now taking brain vitamins like Lutein and Omega-3. I am hoping to rebuild some of the brain abilities I used to have 20 years ago. We’ll see how it goes.

But I have the wealth of being able to figure out my true priorities and carry them out with the limited time I have left.

I have the wealth to be able to take a computer to a beach and sit here, in the wind, salty air, seagulls flying and visiting nearby, watching surfers in front of me - feeling the sea water dry on my legs and leave salt behind, and type this newsletter to you.

[a photo of Jodi, smiling at the camera, in her hot pink jacket, as she stands in front of a natural setting of aloe plants and palm trees, above the ocean with a blue-gray sky in the background.]

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

The Pacific Ocean is wonderful. It’s the largest body of water in the world. I visited it up in Alaska in July. I sailed on the Pacific in a ship down the western coast of Alaska & Canada to Vancouver that same week. And now I am at the bottom of California where I saw part of the coast jutting out that is Mexico yesterday.

Two years ago, I stayed on the Atlantic Ocean at the coast of Maine. I could walk along the beach about 500 feet from where I staying in the afternoon, but in the evening, the water covered the pier that I walked down, and my dogs and I just stood there, watching the water underneath us at the part of the pier that we could still reach. It was dramatic to see that water tide completely filling the beach we had loved to sit on and enjoy the sun and smells for the previous few days.

I had a major panic attack last week. Why it happened and how long it lasted aren’t important. I have many mental health issues, and one of them hit me hard about a week ago. Today, I stood at the edge of the Pacific Ocean, letting the tide hit my feet, ankles, legs, arms, and let the Ocean take away my stresses. I asked the Ocean to take away my fear and anxiety and stress. And I watched as the Ocean surrounded my legs, and pulled the stress out of my body, to be taken out to sea and recycled.

I feel wealthiest when I am sitting at a beach, listening to the waves ebb and flow, watching the tide come in or go out.

I returned home yesterday - flew from California to Denver, and then Denver to Wichita, Kansas (my home airport) and I feel so calm. Spending time with the ocean and on the coast, exploring old town San Diego for a few days has been a balm to my soul. I look forward to returning to a beach whenever I am able to.

[a photo of Jodi playfully splashing in the ocean’s tide, with a surfer riding the end of a wave in front of her.]