The cascading sounds of breaking waves were pure catharsis.
Cara needed this so much.
Work was fucking awful. Life was such a slog.
The ins and outs, ups and downs, were grinding her to pulp.
To be here at last, after planning for it all year. The first time since the Winter she was able to get away from it all. This was peace incarnate.
It wasn’t a white sand beach, but it was hers for the weekend, and she was going to make herself a private eden.
She’d arrived a few hours earlier and settled into the cabin. Having brought books and paints. All her creature comforts too. Setting up her Nintendo and computer to play the games and shows she’d brought.
All her crystals had made the trek as well. Unable to resist the urge to set the vibe. Saging the whole place when she’d gotten there. Setting up her incense and candles. Unpacking the toy she’d bought for private adult time on her way out.
She was fucking set.
The fridge had been stocked. The freezer too.
Even though she’d been separated from her girlfriend for six months. She’d not been able to stop herself from getting gluten-free stuff just for her.
She knew it was absurd. Still, she’d sent a letter the week before and had sworn she could feel it touch their heart. And a part of her was still holding onto hope they’d get back to her. Some miracle brining them to join her here.
It was sad. But it made her feel less alone in a weird kind of way.
She’d even booked the place for two, and a dog.
No matter, this was her weekend. She planned to enjoy every second of it.
To just rest here, breathe, have nowhere to go.
This was heaven.
Being so far out of town was the best feeling.
Just to find space from everyone’s energy put Cara in such a place of peace.
The city, so alight, people crammed so close. You could feel it everywhere. At least, Cara could. It was a burden she’d been learning to walk with.
To be free of it — this was what she’d needed.
Three days and two nights was not enough. These trips never were.
She wanted this to be her whole life, just existing, moving within the rhythms of nature and her own intuition, crashing with the waves.
The beach was long and rocky. The coastline’s curves keeping this place obscured from view; a private wonderland just for her.
She’d made her way south along the ocean, finding a spot beyond view of her cabin, around the sweeping coastal ridge line.
The view here was amazing, sky darkening over the ocean.
A storm was coming in.
She didn’t mind at all.
Cara found herself not giving a shit about the creature comforts she’d brought.
Here, unplugged from it all, with the chance to do whatever she pleased. She’d found herself moved to do one thing — paint.
It had been some time since she’d laid oil to canvas.
The space for it simply hadn’t been there lately.
She’d wanted to, always.
It was her life’s great ambition, to be an artist.
Still, with the speed of life, with the way she’d find herself so exhausted at the end of each day, something had to go.
Silly passions like painting were those of pipe dreams, she’d often think.
Yet when she’d had a chance to be healed by Great Mother, simply existing within the flow of nature for a few hours, things changed.
She found her wantings shift to those of creation, expression, joy.
The works flowing from her were truly divine. It was the first time she’d created without mind. Nothing had ever poured from her brush strokes before, like what she’d painted this night.
It was the best of times.
She was eating the gluten-free pizza she’d brought.
That had been a stupid idea.
Still, this was actually pretty good. Cara decided she’d get these more often.
The rain on the roof of the cabin was mesmerizing.
She’d just been laying there. Admittedly, pretty wine-drunk. Listening to the bulding patter of the storm’s rain.
If there was thunder and lighting, it would make her night. Not that it needed to be made.
That toy had worked.
Excellent choice, all around, she’d thought.
It was here, sprawled on the beanbag in her underwear, hair splaying over its edges, where she’d fallen asleep.
This was a good night.
She was just sitting by the ocean now, trying to see how little she could think.
Watching waves break upon the shore was one the few things which truly brought her into presence.
The intricacies of their crashes. The sprawl of their reach. Those little bubbles.
So much to take in. So much to witness.
It made her heart full.
This was her last day here. She’d be taking full advantage.
There was a barbecue she’d planned to use, and she brought her tortilla press.
She was going to make the bombest tacos.
It was her plan for the whole day.
She’d forgotten the fucking onions.
Since tacos were her only plan for the day. That meant she’d decided it was worth the trip to the nearest town.
People here were looking at her extra weird.
Cara was trans.
This whole trip was her first time going out into rural areas by herself since transition. It was a rite of passage, in many ways. It had been really empowering.
In the city. Using the bathroom, basic stuff like that, was manageably comfortable.
Out here, it wasn’t.
She was flying though, from her time at the beach, with how strong she felt to be out conquering the world as herself at last. She’d decided to just shine right through it all, be friendly to everyone despite their obvious prejudice.
How she’d like to be.
It’s hard though — when you see people having to work through nasty, preconceived ideas about you as you’re being so kind, just having to reflect their bullshit back at them.
At home, or at least, when she’d go into the city — not staying in the outskirts where she lived and was surrounded by so many folks who were still, basically yokels — she’d most days meet genuinely receptive people.
Here in the countryside, literally no one was above their culturally born baggage with trans women.
Still, she had more than enough energy to blast right through it today.
After the grocery store, she’d stopped at a gas station.
Walking inside, her intuition pinged this white-guy with a baseball cap and an open hoodie as a someone she’d want to avoid.
So, she swerved to the back of the store and went about her business.
He hadn’t seen her.
The man was talking to folks behind the counter, taking his time.
She’d finished grabbing what she needed. There were two registers, and the guy was with his kid, a little boy.
They’d been at the one nearest the door.
Cautiously, wondering if she’d still hang back and pretend to shop longer. Cara approached the second register. The guy’s back was turned, thank goodness. He’d finished checking out but was still jabbering.
She wrapped up too fast.
Even trying to drag her heels as much as possible, to let the guy and his kid make their way out, he’d ended up taking so God damned long, she was right behind him.
He saw her from the corner of his eye and held the door.
She knew this was bad.
He’d not be happy he’d done that, once he realized what she was.
So, she’d just put her head down and gone straight past. Him, releasing the door when he’d seen.
Cara had moved so quickly she’d made it through and went straight to her car.
There had been another man approaching the door from the gas pumps.
“Hey.” She heard over her shoulder.
Her car door open, she looked back.
The man from inside the store was standing there, his boy by his side, offended by her presence.
Pointing to the man who’d been approaching, he said, “I held the door for you. And you didn’t hold the door for him. That wasn’t very nice of you.”
Cara had been stunned, but managed to reply, “Well, this is really kind of you.”
He’d choked. Embarrassed.
Then spat, “Yeah, well you’re just a dude.”
She’d just closed her door and left.
Driving back was interesting.
She’d been on such a high, and still refused to let this dumbass kill her vibe.
It was just some fucking redneck.
But her blood was boiling, he’d gotten his bullshit into her.
She’d had to scream it out.
There were always tears after screams.
But it helped every time.
These tacos were fucking delicious.
The vibes had definitely been affected for a while, but she’d gotten back to that beach, and it was still perfect.
Its waves had cleansed the dirt right off her soul.
That night she’d paint.
It would be another transcendent evening.
She’d uncover herself in ways she’d never before known. Rediscover her purpose. Find her womanhood.
This trip, all alone. To dwell in nature’s bosom. To be held so by Great Mother. It was the best feeling she’d had all year.
For her creative spark to be found again, was everything.
She’d even planned to paint a series. Admittedly, all about her ex.
Slippery-slope, she knew. Hopefully it would bring them back or at least help her get over them. She decided she’d let herself enjoy it regardless.
As long as she didn’t get obsessive about it.
The next morning was bittersweet.
As the ends of these all-too-short trips always were.
She’d found her spirit again, in whole, at that beach. For the first time, in fact.
The waves in this place would live within her now. They’d be a part of her going forward. She’d carry them back into the workplace, and so community filled with people who didn’t understand her. She’d let these waves wash and heal it all, transform the world around her. She’d become a walking container for their energy to reach those people so lost in the sprawl.
This was a part of her home now.
She’d hold it in her heart forever.
