Boatyard Bitch

After much grief from various Boatyard Bozos, I created a group of my own: The Boatyard Bitches. Much to my delight, another capitana joined immediately. To paraphrase Sherlock Holmes (via Arthur Conan Doyle), the air of Peñasco is sweeter for my presence.

Surfing helps deal with dodos too. When the tide is low and the wind is high, I bodysurf Las Conchas to the southeast. And I recently cleaned both boards in preparation for Surfari. (¡Aloha Pacific!)

I also initiated a program of Radical Rest: device-free four days a week, with copious meditation sessions. Two weeks in, my mental health has drastically improved. I say “No” more easily and firmly to time-wasters. I am able to cope with shamers and blamers more confidently and definitely. And I woke up one morning deciding to love my Self more than anybody else.

Guilt is losing her teeth. My new favorite song? “My Give a Damn’s Busted” by Jo Dee Messina.

Yeah, it takes practice. Another Boatyard Bozo stood too close and I didn’t call him on it. Escaped out the gate instead. And the Interior Critic began to chastise me, our usual song and dance. But I caught on quickly and said, “No. Do not dis’ this body. She’s doing her best, her VERY best.” And that, my dears, is self-love.

Be kind to you. Don’t give up.

Bookshelf:
Romy & Julio
Diary of a Reluctant Traveler: 15 months on the road from coast to coast to coast
Sea Change: stories & splashes
Shoulds are for Saints: the true life adventures of Suzy Le Speed
Dance First …ask questions later: poems & paintings