It’s 9:15am on Tuesday, Easter Tuesday. It’s a long weekend and I’m sitting listening to the cyclic waves crashing against the sandy shoreline no more than 20 metres away from the comfort of my camp chair.
Numerous boats rock gently moared 100m from shore in front of me, behind me our trusty Sunliner campervan, within which my partner snores. (Ok, poetic license on that one…she’s not snoring, but has fallen back to sleep).
I’m wrestling. This should be a place of comfort, contentment, of relaxation…yet I find myself strangely agitated, circumspect and unable to settle into a headspace of calm peaceful rest. I’ve flicked between my book, my sudoku, my phone (upon which I’m currently typing). I’m aware that this state of unease is most unusual for me.
Questions percolate: am I avoiding something I’d rather not think about? Is there something troubling me that I’m unaware of? Is this energetic agitation gearing me for directed activity and unknown but needed outlet – for which I’m currently oblivious to?
As a counsellor my mind locates strategies for bringing me back into the here-and-now; I attend to my thoughts, acknowledging and accepting them, yet the restlessness remains. Have I seriously been this wound up for the past few months?
I’m reminded of wisdom shared from an old mentor that it often takes 3 weeks break to fully unwind and allow the internal bodily systems to dissipate stored adrenalin and cortisol created from carrying excess and accumulated stress. I’ve been enjoying this current road trip for a mere 3 days, hardly 3 weeks. I find this somewhat reassuring and comforting.
Stop. Breath. Look up. Breath. Listen to the waves. Breath. Look at the boats. Breath. Watch the seagulls. Breath.
Energy to burn? Agitation to soothe? Peace to find? Motivation to direct? Pause.
In silence and solitude is the souls rest. I’m surrounded by stimulation, perhaps that’s what’s stirring this discontent?
Yesterday we spotted a sizable bird of prey standing over a dead kangaroo. Alas our u-turn and pulling over to get a photo stirred this bird to take flight into the security of the surrounding plantation forest. And whilst we waited patiently with the engine off the bird failed to return.
Still, we saw the expansive wing span of this majestic creature and were awed by its beauty and grace as it flew. I love birds of prey – this was seriously sizable, much bigger than a field hawk, likely an eagle, the largest I’ve seen live. I smile as I recall this, knowing this memory will eventually fade.
Waiting. Watching. Hoping. Perhaps this encounter is reflective of my current self? Longing for a glimpse of something that is within visual reach, yet cannot be captured?