I just spent an interesting few days camping at Cape Lookout. I highly recommend everyone do that.
I am a self-proclaimed princess camper. I am a car camper, flush toilet user, free shower taker, fat air mattress sleeper, and two burner propane stove cooker. I do not want to have to dig a hole to poo or carry my inordinate amounts of stuff more than 20 yards to my campsite. Cape Lookout is exactly what I require in a campground, plus it has the super extra special added bonus of being just on the other side of the dune from the beach.
The downside to Cape Lookout is that in the summertime the campground is always packed, and the majority of the campers are 16-26 year old partygoers with their Creed, their Bud Light, and their good times that don't stop when the sun goes down and all other campers are snuggled inside their down sleeping bags.
So camping the weekend after labor day was excellent. The campground was maybe half full, mostly retirees and some young families. Dog fights weren't breaking out every ten minutes, nobody saw fit to play loud radios at all times of the day and night, and for the first night I didn't even have any neighbors!
Well at least no neighbors I could see, that is. When I woke up Monday after a nice sleep, I walked out of my tent and noticed that huh, my cooler was open. And muddy. And there were broken eggs all over the grass. And a couple of empty plastic bags, that used to have a bunch of grapes in them, and some cheese. And my bag of salad greens was on the ground (apparently a rejected food item).
Well, I guess I made my offering to the spirits of the campground, I thought. At least they got some nice, organic foods to eat. Then I saw that my package of cheddar dogs was gone. Now I was MAD. Cheddar dogs are a must-have camping food item! When else can you feel justified to eat that crap, save when camping? And the damn animals ATE MY CHEDDAR DOGS. Assholes. I hope their livers clog up on the nitrates and other by-products.
Reminder that I am not in charge #1: even after enjoying a starry sky followed by the just-recently-full-moon rising, and going to bed happy and thankful for simple beauty, the animals will insist on stealing your cheddar dogs right out of your cooler.
I had plenty of food, really, so cheddar dogs aside, I was just fine.
So after my eggless breakfast I packed up my backpack with my beach supplies and headed out to greet the ocean. Wow, I thought as I crested the dune and saw the shoreline, the tide is up pretty high. I thought about the tide timetable that the camp ranger offered me the day before when I registered, and how I turned it down. Was the tide coming in or out? I figured that it would be easy enough to tell and I could move if needed. I found a nice little spot and settled in. The sky was bright blue and cloudless and the salty sea air felt great. I sat and listened to the pounding of the waves meeting the land and I began to let go. I took a walk, took lots of pictures, and opened up my Birthing From Within Keepsake Journal to do some work. I delved into finding my deepest question--the question that drives me--and I found this: how can I be present to each moment?
I took a break and went back to the campsite to use the potty, and a lady stopped me and said, "wow, the tide is really coming in!" And I said, really? As I sat back down in my little space with my camera next to me, my book open in front of me, a box of pastels, my backpack and my shoes behind me, I pondered my deepest question and watched a wave crash on the shore not too far away, and I watched it rush in towards me, and then I watched it rush even closer to me, and then I finally realised the wave wasn't slowing down yet, so I grabbed my apple and said, oh shit! The wave rushed over me, my book, my camera, my backpack, my shoes, and as things began to float towards the laughing sea I finally clicked into action. I chased down all my gear as the other beachgoers looked on, and although waterlogged, everything seemed to be okay.
Except my camera. Which is dead.
RIP little camera. How I loved thee.
Reminder that I am not in charge #2: no matter how many warnings Creator gives us to get out of the way, we can choose to ignore all of it and get our ass kicked instead.
The next morning I ran out of propane. But I cleverly built a small fire, and boiled water in my now very blackened teakettle and had tea and instant oatmeal for breakfast.
Reminder that I am not in charge #3: you can plan a weekend of great meals but that doesn't mean you'll get to eat them.
Then that night on the phone the Stinky told me he's moving to New York. In 4 weeks.
Reminder that I am not in charge #4: just because you pray and pray for the man to spend your days with, and you even ackowledge that Creator's timeline for when you meet The Boy isn't necessarily the same as your own, and you pray that if its okay, to speed up the timeline and meet The Boy NOW, and you meet a boy which after a little bit you are 99% sure is The Boy, and two of you have a deep strong connection that is more intimate and supportive and healthy than any other relationship you've had in your life, and you love each other deeply and passionately, it doesn't matter and that timeline will still stand and fate will pull the two of you apart anyway.