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Morning. {Stories from Topsail Beach}

When I first opened my eyes, the sky was already turning pink.
I didn’t feel rushed.
I knew it was still 20  minutes until sunrise.

I took my time and made coffee,
put on my baseball cap and hoodie.
Poured coffee into my mug and made my way to the beach.

Topsail (32 of 42)

I was surprised to be the only one out there.
But, felt lucky to be alone with so much beauty.

I watched the glowing sphere rise bright red out of the ocean and into the sky.
While doing my best to calm my thoughts of work left behind in the mountains.
Even once saying, “hush, hush, hush,” to myself.

Once the sun hit the sky I made my way back.
I got my yoga mat out of the car and inspected an old bike under the house.
I’d hoped to ride it into town, but, it was out of commission.
A spoke was poking out and one of the pedals had been replaced with a coke can covered in duct tape.

I unfolded my mat on the back deck and proceeded with my morning practice.
It felt good to have the space and the sunshine.
It felt great for my body to move and bend and stretch first thing in the morning.

At the end of my practice I took the time to say ‘thank you.’
To myself for practicing.
To myself as a young person for caring so much about the world.
To myself as an older person for containing the knowledge that everything works out in the end.
To myself now for not being afraid to risk everything in search of my dreams.
To Kyle for letting me go and loving me anyway.
To Jess and John for providing me with such a beautiful respite.
To the heavens for the sounds of the ocean and the sun on my face.

Topsail (25 of 42)

I’ve fallen in love what the beach does to my hair and skin.
My freckles get darker and my hair feels wild and untamed.
Caricatures of the insecurities I held as a young person now represent the truest form of beauty I see in myself.
Being here has me daydreaming about living at the beach.

Spending time writing and doing yoga.
Sitting in the sun when I need a break.
Sharing bourbons with travelers as they pass through.

Listening to stories from people and dancing in the salt water.
I don’t want much,
just a little space with a porch and room to write.
Now more then ever I’m aware of the treasure held within simplicity.

with love,

Sarajane.

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