La Jolla

La Jolla.  

Saying it, or typing it, brings to my mind a sense of beauty and tranquility that only can be found near the ocean.  A peacefulness.  For me, a centeredness, that I sometimes feel in church.  A sense of place and rightness, that everything is as it should be, if only for a few stolen moments or if I am lucky, for a few stolen days.

Today, it's minutes that I am stealing.  Hoarding, really.  Jude, JP, and Joe are sea kayaking in the caves near the beach in La Jolla.  And while they do that, I am having a coffee in Mrkt Space, a gourmet coffee shop, wine store, and restaurant a couple of blocks from the beach and the Pacific Ocean.  The large, arch shaped windows are open and a gentle ocean breeze is blowing.  Reggae music is playing in the background.  

It's a perfect moment.  A lifetime moment, really.  

It's beautiful in La Jolla today.  Hell, it's probably beautiful in La Jolla almost every day.  65 degrees with the gentle ocean breeze I mentioned earlier, under an azure blue sky.  Perfect.  

Later today, there is traffic ahead and the uncertainty of finding the house we are renting in Santa Monica. The stress of trying to find a time, this afternoon or tonight, to see my Aunt Leslee in Yorba Linda.  I realize, of course, that it's quite possibly the last time I will see her in person and the only time she will see my boys.  We don't get to California often (or ever), obviously, and she is not inclined to travel to Nashville.  Leslee is my father's youngest sister and fellow family lawyer (retired) and I would hate to miss seeing her on this trip.

Work is work, too.  Inescapable.  Always there.  Two calls to the office this morning and it's barely 10 a.m. PST.

For now, though, I am in this moment.  Present.  Mindful.  Grateful.