La Jolla, alone.

It's been a weird year. I spent most of the year seriously considering whether or not we would move to Seattle or not. To be honest, I still grieve that we aren't going. While I have no doubt that I made the right choice, Seattle is one of the places I have yearned to live since college. I think the weight of carrying that decision wore me down throughout the year. I was excited. But not going, is right. I am glad for this assurance. By the time this last month rolled around, I have felt depleted. I don't know if it was the emotional toll of everything, or what. Not to mention, parenting a child alone with someone who doesn't make coparenting easier is tremendously hard. I am an introverted person, and I think this seems to be increasing either because of my age, or just with everything going on. Plus, I very frequently have people at my house.

I am at a place where I really need space. I need stillness and quiet. I need to be alone with myself. Finally, I needed a day to just go, alone, and be. So, I took a day off work, and I took myself to La Jolla, where the water is a gorgeous dark blue and the seals sun bathe.

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It was gorgeous. The first thing I did was walk out on the jetty. I walked to the very end of the jetty, only to be drenched in two big waves from the ocean. After that, I headed off the jetty and back to the shore while soaking wet, and sat alone while watching the waves. I was perfectly content. I even brought a book to read and highlight during different points in the day. I also ate breakfast for lunch at a place I have been longing to try called The Cottage. I walked through the town to get there, and it was perfect. The orange juice was delicious and I loved my oat blueberry pancakes. I also went to their famous cave, which could be found at the bottom of a 110 year old man made tunnel. It wasn't a big deal, but still lovely to see. I expected it to feel mildly strenuous going back up the 145 steps, from the panting of other people who made it back up from seeing the cave. Not to mention the warning sign and paraphernalia stating, "I survived the cave!" There's nothing to survive. The most danger I observed was that the stairs going down were slippery. Nothing big.

At the end of my time there, I went to see Mt. Soledad, and was struck by the poetic nature of the cross. Usually I don't care for these things as much, but it just seemed significant and beautiful against the contrast of the sky, up on Mount Soledad with the elevation of around 640 feet. Set against the memorial stones of US veterans, it boasts a 360 panoramic view. It was certainly worth the stop before heading home.

It was a beautiful day of personal, self imposed silence.