I love a hill.

If I’m walking in the park and I see a hill, I immediately feel the need to climb it. No, not climb—conquer it. The steeper, the better. As I widen my stride so my legs can take me higher, I feel accomplishment in simply making my way to the top. And once I get to the peak I think, Yeah, I did that.

I don’t always feel the same about life’s hills, metaphorically speaking.

No way around it, this week brought me to my knees. Clearly the universe was trying to tell me something….I just don’t know what it is. Everything—work, people, difficulties—was relentless and hard and felt never ending. Thank goodness for holiday weekends to offer a break.

An escape was necessary, if only for a day, so I dragged myself out of bed at the crack of dawn and got on a train. Destination? My happy place—the beach.

When I arrived I made my way far from the entrance so I would have some peace. Sometimes silence is the only cure. Just me and the seagulls and the salty air, this is what was needed to be the salve to my frayed emotions.

I stood near the shoreline and watched the waves roll in and make their way out. As I moved further into the water, I began to feel giddy at the ebb and flow of the tide. It crashed into me and retracted, playing with me like a master throwing a ball to his dog again and again. I began to laugh. Dare I say, happiness arrived.

One wave at a time, I was restored to center. The beach gave me back to myself, fortified with sanity and strength.

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Tomorrow there will be more hills to climb. This time I will be ready to face them.

xo, with goodness and grace.

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