Last week, I was in Florida for two book signings and a continued pursuit of gallery representation for my art in that area. My husband ultimately decided not to come back to Florida with me again so soon, since he had taken time off in April for our vacation there.
For some reason, I felt uneasy about going alone. I asked my son and three different friends if they were interested, but the timing
didn’t work for anyone to travel with me. It seemed apparent that I was meant to go by myself—destined to get out of my comfort zone and just do it. Because having company seemed like a blocked door, I believed "more would be revealed" as to why this adventure would be best as a solo trip. In a spirit of trust, I forged ahead with my plans.
The first gift of going alone was a sunset swim the evening of my arrival. Whereas my husband and I
usually put a toe in the sand after the seven hour drive, and then go back out for dinner and groceries, I packed food so that I would not have to get back in the car so soon after my long day of driving. With mounting anticipation, I was able to check in, put my things in the condo, and then head straight to the beach for a swim to cool off and bring in the sunset, something I have never done before. What a wonderful treat and a great way to start my work-cation.
The outdoor book signings were on the front porches of two independent bookstores and it was hot. Like 97 degrees HOT. Because I was alone, I had the freedom to stay only as long as I was wanted to, without having to juggle sharing a car.
Ironically, I had met an artist back in May during my trip to New York who had plans to be in the same area of Florida for a month, overlapping my time there. I thought about her
late Saturday night and reached out Sunday morning. With only a few hours’ notice, we met at a beach in Santa Rosa that afternoon, once again, because my time was flexible.
When Monday rolled around, I felt like I had mostly worked without nearly enough relaxing time on the beach. I couldn’t bear to get in the car to head back home. Not having to consider anyone else’s schedule, I decided to stay two extra days. In making that decision,
many more gifts unfolded.
On my way to my second condo about thirty minutes away, I followed up with The Blue Giraffe, a cute art gallery/gift shop boutique that I had visited in April. The owner was
in, we hit it off, and I secured a new home for my books, and a few small pieces of art.
After checking into my new condo in Rosemary Beach, I met a resident named Bob on my first walk through a neighborhood to the beach. Bob was feeding the numerous stray cats, which of course grabbed my attention and allowed me to boldly strike up a conversation with him. Turns out, Bob is the next-door neighbor of the owner of another local gallery I had
approached back in April. Doors opened and I was able to meet the gallery owner the next evening and show him several of my paintings! He’s over-full right now, but what a great connection to have, as he also owns galleries in Atlanta.
My last day was totally relaxed with no rushing, and lots of beach time. I was basking in gratitude that morning for all the gifts of the trip, and didn’t realize one of the biggest ones was about to
unfold.
The sky was overcast that morning, with ever-present storm clouds, but I was okay with that. I actually love to experience a rainstorm that blurs the horizon line between ocean and sky. It’s magical to me.
As it rained on and off, I stayed in the condo for much of the morning, reading and journaling. When the sky cleared up, I headed to the beach and set up my umbrella
and chair. After lounging a while, I played in the ocean on my float for nearly an hour, having the best time swimming, wave jumping and then just drifting, until I finally went back to my chair to dry off.
