Today I write of an age old tradition. Something that appeals to the treasure hunter in the young and old. Picking up seashells. I abstained from partaking in this the first week I was here. Mostly because I didn't see that many. But as Jak and I settled into our trips to the beach and walked farther, I began to see more shells. And then I began to pick them up. Actually what I decided was I would pick one up for each day that we walked on the dog beach to be put in my glass jar yard sale find. Here is the one I picked up yesterday:
In defense of the one a day project, I started this after I had been here a week so there were a few trips to the beach that didn't get a shell. Also the smallest shell in the picture is for another project that I'm working up to starting and won't be going in the jar. And there is a one a day shell on my doorstep that needed some outside time before being added to the collection. (Think stinky.) Pending the outcome of the de-stinking process, it may or may not make it into the jar.
On Monday of this week I set out to take care of a bunch of errands. One of which was to locate where some family friends live in the next town North of here. In looking for their house I became the unexpected observer of a woman taking a fall in her garage. After seeing that I did the only thing I could, I turned around and went back to see if she was okay. The woman assured me that she did not need medical attention and only needed assistance getting back up. I helped her get back on her feet and watched her walk around without issue. I suggested that if anything changed she should seek further assistance and I went on my way.
The reason I shared this story is because, although in this case it was literal, I think it is a metaphor. In life, it's not about how we fall down. It's about how we pick up ourselves and move on. And you never know who might be there to help you up. Perhaps a perfect stranger.
Happy May Day! Happy Birthday Tamie!
Until next time...
Peace & Love,
Hope
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