Today I was graced with a day trip to the shores of Lake Erie. It’s a beautiful shore line with turquoise waters. I’ve dubbed it, “The Poor Girl’s Florida Keys.” There’s no coral reef for snorkeling, just varying levels of waves, blue water, sunshine, and sand. I grew up in Florida and Western Pennsylvania. In Florida, I spent my summers in the Gulf of Mexico or in a neighbor’s pool. Once my family moved to Pennsylvania, I maintained my relationship with water in my cousin’s pool, and even joining her family on a trip to the Outer Banks in NC and Hawaii. Despite my ghostly, fair complexion, I love the beach. I find healing in a few hours in the sun, being cooled by the ocean breeze, and tossed in the rhythm of waves.
Last summer, I was blessed to travel to Dubrovnik, Croatia on the Adriatic Sea. It was glorious. Just the view of a coastline eases my soul. I haven’t yet seen a coastline more beautiful than the Adriatic Coastline. I waded and swam in salt water for it to cleanse and heal my body, mind, and soul. With a trip like last summer’s, this year’s budget did not allow for such an adventure. So, as the summer winds to a close, my family and I snuck in a day trip to Lake Erie for me to get my water fix.
The summer has afforded me a great deal of rest. I’ve done a lot of thinking for myself and my relationships. This is nothing new, as I’m a constant thinker. However, I do feel more confident in my place with myself and others than I did a couple of months ago. It hasn’t been easy, though. Self-growth isn’t easy or fun; just worth it like everything else that follows the same rule. All summer long, I’ve craved the water, knowing how beneficial it is for me. Weather, logistics, budgets, and excuses all seemed to get in the way. Until today. Today was now or never, and I was hopeful that it would be exactly and completely what I need.
Except, there’s no quick fix. There’s no immediate, one-time solution. Maybe the cure is only achieved once the bucket is filled; drop by drop. Drops in the bucket. Today a drop, or maybe few were placed in my bucket. My impatience convinced me that I would be cured by some “Vitamin Sea & D.” Only, I still feel wounded and empty, just not as much so. Progress, I’ll take it. My impatient expectations set me up for failure, not for improvement or love. Instead, I now realize that healing sometimes comes in drops, and with it comes giving the space needed for patience and acceptance.