Giggling Peace and the Ocean in November

Hello you beautiful human! Are you ready for some giggly, grateful ponderings and another crazy little adventure tale from the edge of the world?

The past week has been just incredible. Seriously. There’s so much I can’t even tell you about- it’s beyond words. But there are a few key points I just have to share!!

Photography by the lovely Rachel Renee

Like… for one… I found my peace.

*insert bawling my eyes out with a big huge smile*

Okay, truth be told, I created the peace. But… I led myself to it, you know? What are the odds that I’d find the most incredible friends in the most isolated place I could find to live? I met a coach who taught me how to see my own worth in just a few moments together, and I don’t even think he knew he was doing it- at least at first.

Since moving here, I’ve made so very many precious friends, all of which feel like friendships I’ve had all my life- like you know those incredible friendships where you can go months and years without contact- and then pick up right where you left off over a cup of coffee? I’ve gone from the hermit girl with two close friends and some dogs to… this radiant woman who everyone feels they know instantly. I feel my own warmth and openness, it’s glowing.

To be completely honest, I’m a little obsessed with myself right now. But it’s because this playful, confident, peaceful version of me has been here all along- and now that she’s shining so brightly- now that I’m shining so brightly… I’m just baffled at how I never saw my own value before. I never saw the importance of that generous smile, my instinct to help, to connect and truly see the people in front of me.

Despite all the times I’ve felt invisible in a crowded place. . . I never valued my natural ability to make everyone feel deeply seen and loved.

But I’m not writing to gush about the peace. I just want to get the feeling across before what I’m about to tell you. So maybe it can help you too.

The biggest change I saw in myself was my heart opening up wide.

Not just to share vulnerably, but also to be seen myself the way I see others. I opened my heart up without the expectation/anticipation/fear of judgement. I opened my heart to being loved, to having others feel the same joy and gratitude in me that I’ve felt for them. I let it in, and it washed over me in waves. It changed me, all the way to my core.

From new friends seeing me- the best and the worst- as if they’ve known me all my life. Blushing, giggly, warm conversations- tears and broken hearts- fired up and ranting. All of these conversations and moments added up to this new sense of peace. And it worked because. . . I was present for them.

Mindfulness is something I’ve always valued- but especially since moving to the forest at the edge of the world- and part of why I wanted to be here so desperately, is for the presence. The mindfulness. I can’t wander the forest (especially without phone service or internet, ha!!) and not be present in the moment, turning my face to the sun, smiling at the playful wind in the trees, stopping to stare at birds in bushes. I can’t be faced with the immense beauty and power of the ocean- her infinite crashing songs- and NOT be present in the moment. It takes my breath away. It makes me giggle like a child, the moments capture me.

What shifted my confidence and woke up this radiant light in my heart? Turning that same mindfulness and adoration inward.

I gave myself permission to feel as beautiful, captivating, loving, gentle, and wild as the forests and ocean I love so dearly. Just for a moment, I gave myself that chance. And then. . . I guess I just finally saw myself the way so many others see me. It just clicked.

Which brings us to. . . Walking in the ocean in November.

So, today? I had a documentary-style photo shoot where I brought the audience right into my home- into my bed where I write these messages and my books at 5:30a.m. It was such a beautiful thing- with this shoot the point was not to be professional. It was to show up exactly as I am. “Electric unconcealed,” as Isa Adney quoted in an article of hers that just blew me away. (You’ll hear more about this part in a couple weeks, but Isa is the incredible creator who put this whole shoot and such magic together for me.)

The point of the shoot was to show my soul, really. To show the way my creations come together, who I am, what lights me up. To just be myself, let it be enough, and share it. I’m so grateful for the week I just had- this time that taught me to be a little more proud of who I am- just in time for it to be captured in such a special way.

I’m in love with the ocean. Truly. I can’t not laugh, smile, and cry every single time I see her. And I really can’t not touch the water. November on the Oregon coast or not- I need to feel it. I need to thank the ocean for all that has come to be in my life because of it. It’s important. It’s precious.

I’m so excited to share the photos with you- having a photographer there just helped me see the power of the motions I go through each day. My love for the ocean, my commitment to my work and to love and honesty and kindness. . . My faith in serendipity. My knowing that everything can become love. It just shined through as I sank down in the cool water with my hands and heart in open, joyful surrender. Pure, freakin’ cold and glorious, absolute gratitude. The waves of the ocean washed up against my ankles the way newfound confidence and peace have been washing over me since September 22, 2019. When I made the best decision ever and moved to the edge of the world.

I can’t tell you the secret to finding your own peace and confidence, but I hope if nothing else, you feel encouraged to trust in your heart.

To love what it inspires you to do- no matter how crazy or scary it might seem. I urge you to open up with what you love, to truly be like a child with it. Adore it. Don’t hide your passions, the world needs to see them. You need to see them. Have an affair with your creation. Flirt with it, dance with it.

There was a point about two weeks ago where I felt so absolutely alone, so defeated. I was doubting my decision, I was afraid of my feelings. I was afraid of all these incredible friendships- because for a moment I realized I never wanted them to end. I felt myself growing attached, my faith slipped. I was drowning in fear of losing what I’d grown to love so much in my new life. So? I went back to the ocean- back to my love.

I walked along the foggy, empty beach sobbing. My shoulders shook, I felt so tiny and weak. The misty, cool air covered my face and froze my bare fingers. I was alone at the edge of the world, and for the first time, all that open space hurt. After a while, I was crying so hard- I’d expected the walk on the beach to remind me why I came here and to restore my peace and ease the loneliness… but as I walked I felt my fear growing instead of settling. I sank to my knees, just sobbing all alone in the cold fog. I cried at the ocean “I came here for YOU! You make this better!! You have to make this better! It’s not supposed to hurt like this, that wasn’t part of the deal.” And the ocean? Said nothing, obviously. She kept on crashing, just like always. And I realized that’s all I could do, too. Let the waves keep crashing over me. Let the creations keep being born. Let the magic flow through me, and all the feelings and fears with it.

I wandered back to my car with a softer flow of tears, now feeling safe in my own heart.

That same childlike love I had. . . it also helped me recognize my own difficult feelings. It helped me let them out- perhaps not very gracefully, but they were out and that’s what mattered. I realized the ocean wasn’t going to make everything better- and that was never part of the deal. The deal was: when I moved here, I’d bring all my same problems and struggles… and just have them to grow through in this new place. And I’d promised myself that I would be grateful for that. That could be enough. My tantrum on the beach didn’t change a single thing, but I changed for having it. And that’s the power of being childlike. You see more. You feel more. You learn more. You love more (and more and more and more).

Thanks for walking with me.

Written for you with all my love,

Vera Lee Bird