Pebbles instead of sand at Moonstone beach.
As I left Bakersfield on Saturday morning, headed west for the artsy little village of Cambria, I noticed a welcome feeling of freedom from scheduled activities and obligatory anything. The forty-six highway is long and winding, and gave me plenty of time in my own bean to think about health, home and happiness.
It was a lovely reunion, both with Kirsten, and with the sea air. When I lay down in the tiny, tumbled pebbles on Moonstone's beach instead of common sand, I felt a great deal of pain in my back where all of the coughing has taken it's toll. Then...a great yank downward. I took deep breaths in and lingered there supine as the waves crashed beyond my feet. I got the immediate sense that I'd been gifted with what I'd come for: a healing.
The energy of the jade, jasper and all of the other beautiful little stones that are so old and full of motion and ability was incredible. I didn't want to leave. I made an offering of a couple of my hairs and one throaty verse of a song and then we were off to breakfast at our favorite little spot for chilaquiles.
I loved it there so much that I'm going back for Mother's Day this weekend, at *mother Ocean*... Back for more time in those little healing pebbles. Because I can't get her out of my head. And my lungs are begging for more. I want to run a mile down the water's edge and may do just that.
While I'm there, I'll be brewing something fun to share a bit later here...stay tuned for that little surprise, yip yip yip:)
