(Thank goodness this is just an exercise, because I actually can’t stand the feeling of sand in my toes. #Yucky.)
The gentle waves rush in and out. The lulling whoosh of the water sweeps over you and you are totally relaxed. The sun is bright and you smile as it warms your face…
Today I am pretending I am here:
When really, I am here:
February has proved to be quite a snowy month this year, and the endless pound of ice from the sky and below freezing temperatures hanging out here in the Mid-Atlantic are getting old.
I also happen to have a touch of a something that just won’t go away. I’ve decided that my fever is just there to help make the visualization more realistic- it is, in fact, kind of warm wherever I am.
I’ve got my sound machine set up to “ocean waves.” I’m eating a blood orange whose happy red-orange color is the same as the sun in July.
I am ignoring the snow that is piling up outside the window, and am instead reading The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton. I’m at the part where they are summering in Newport, and I’m pretending I’m there too.
The one person I know who is decidedly not complaining about the weather?
She is like Agnes in Despicable Me. I swear this is her:
When we go out, she actually walks right out into the middle of the yard and sticks her face in the frozen icicles, ostrich-in-the-sand-style.
I have taken to wearing a full snowsuit when we go out, because she wants to stay out foreverrrr and I want to be able to feel my legs when we go back inside.
Today, we’re both happy. We went out, she walked over the frozen surface for a good long time (it’s actually frozen solid enough that she can’t stick her face in it today), and now we are inside, where I am visualizing pleasant beach scenes.