The cold water splashed over my body as I chased my boy through the ocean while his shrieks and giggles complemented the sounds of the crashing waves. “Mama, chase me. I’m gonna win!” He ran up to the mess of sand toys scattered next to the tent where his dad and little sister sat in the shade, her gummy smile ready to charm passersby. My boy laid down and exclaimed, “Lie next to me, mama. Let’s get warm and cozy!” He shimmied his shoulders to burrow deeper in the sand. I accompanied him, feeling the heat from the sand slowly turn my goose bump filled skin smooth again. Yet, in this moment that was seemingly perfect and picturesque and everything I wanted summer to be, I was struggling to feel joy.
We spent a lot of time at the beach this summer. Even though sometimes I didn't feel like it, I chose to stand in the sunshine and lie in the sand and let the warmth of it envelop my body while the wind sent a cool breeze across my shoulders. The feelings of earth and sky covered me when I couldn’t muster up feelings of joy from within. And if I could go back and tell myself something in those moments, it would be, the joy will come back to you. Not all at once, but slowly, in bits and pieces. This will not be your new normal. You will reconnect to yourself, slowly.
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