I’ve been kidnapped by friends to a two-story cabin on the Sound somewhere on the peninsula.
…In the last 21 hours I’ve cried (from laughing), sped through country mountain roads (in an orange, 1960’s convertible Mustang), walked the tide-flats, let the ocean lap and salt-water sooth away my Joan Crawford bloating, back pain and pressure, ate a homecooked carne asada with fresh everything marrying so many flavor bonus surprises, the tongue was on multiple orgasm delight.
…We siesta’d on the back porch with frothy fresh margaritas, watched the waves at magic hour, read a play so late into twilight, we finished with candles whipping their light every-which-way…too stubborn to stop or go inside. Later: attacking a cheesecake on a plate between us, each with fork in-hand…laughing and chatting late into the night.
…Awoke in the loft bedroom, by the sun poking in through the giant windows. Downstairs, side-steped a morning breathing and yoga regime by Lady M, to fresh coffee, and out with bedhead and no makeup to the already toasty deck.
“Think I’m gonna take a morning dip, in a bit…the water is just too delish,” The Prof says, in greeting.
“Mmm. Coffeeeee…….,” is all I can yet manage, gripping my cup while looking out…at a view that is cinematically ridiculous.
…Lady M joins us, Yoga-refreshed, cup in hand. And for the prob’ly three-dozenth time in these hours away, we are: three women…as the world so very rarely gets the chance to unabashedly see us. Real. Makeup-naked. No phones. No watches. Hairstyles: irrelevant. We don’t care how we sit in our chairs, various sizes of little round tummies, not sucked in as an outreach to vanity. Toenail Polish on the feet thrust out before us, chipped in places…because, who cares? We are three generations of womanity…so different in our ways and manner of walking through life, but so at ease and peace with one another and (most importantly) ourselves.
…It has been silent for a while, and we are fine with this. I look at our coffee cups a moment and grin. It’s too good. I have to share it.
“…Even the cups we choose give us away: The Prof, with her delicate demi half-sized pour, Lady M with her funky handmade look and shape, and me: the largest monster-mug in the cabinet.”
…We all laugh. At what it says about us. To ourselves, and each other.
This. This is the kind of life-medicine that heals better than any pill or salve. This is where I have been taken by one of my closest of close friends….who just gets me and all my failings and frustrations. This is where I’ve been shown, by example and expert women-strength, that it is hard enough being a strong woman, being an artist, being in “business”…being a “grown-up.”
….Sometimes you need someone to take the phone and the watch and the pretenses away and say, “Go. For 24 hours: let it go, and just ‘be.'”
….And so I have.
…Save for one little blog, while two women of a certain age, laugh and sing in the ocean just below me…being amazing inspiration. Without even trying.
Because, just “being, ” is enough.
~D
