Bozo beach. That’s how my parents named the house they bought by the sea, in honour of my dad’s deceased dog. Just by the name of the place, you already know something’s going on. Here, you won’t be able to take yourself that seriously. Here, dogs are kings, the beach is their kingdom. We get to sit back and be the witnesses of nature we were meant to be all along.
This is where I was born, and where I shall die. The sea is my sister, my friend, my soul mate. Ruled by the moon, she reminds you many times through the day how to navigate the ebb and flow of life. Inhale, high tide, exhale, low tide.
This home is my place to reset. Invited by my parents, I enjoy my time as a guest. In a completely new environment, I let go of any form of control. I wake up when the sun wakes up or when coffee is ready, I eat whatever’s served for breakfast, I slowly walk on the beach and then lay in the sun to read. Time expands, every minute is spent consciously, one minute devoted to gratitude, the other filled by the sudden anxiety of the apparent emptiness of our lives, the next one occupied by irrelevant thoughts.
In fact, it doesn’t really matter how time is spent. What is important is that suddenly the involuntary momentum of life that gets us to do so much, too much, stops. The simple act of eating, moving, or even sleeping, becomes purposeful. I usually walk eight miles a day, here I only walk one, which feels like ten. Back in Montreal I am vegan, here I eat fish, blessing the sea for its delicious gifts. As I would normally stick to about eight hours of sleep per night, here I don’t even have to count. I simply know when I need to rest, and when it’s time to wake up. This is when we realize how little we actually need to be satisfied when we are not stressed, overwhelmed, too emotional.
We all need those breaks. Vacation time is mandatory. Too often we wait so long before allowing ourselves to take some that it’s already too late. By the time we get to rest, we are walking zombies. Without any energy left to pay attention throughout that time off, we keep on repeating our habitual patterns on vacation. We forget that this time, just like Savasana, can be used wisely even though we appear to be doing nothing.
I wish you will get to enjoy some time off rather sooner than later. I hope you have a place you can call home too, where you are welcome with open arms and where you can truly recover physically, mentally and emotionally. And I am inviting you on your next trip back home to let everything behind, so that you can really get into the zone in order for you to appreciate even more your active life when you’ll jump again in that crazy hustle we call our daily routine. In order even maybe to take home some of that quietness, that peace of mind with you to slow the pace.
See you by the [Bozo] beach.