I have a DVR addiction.
There, I said it. That’s the first step, so they tell me.
It’s just that I love pausing things. Love reversing action on the field, watching plays in slow-mo or watching sunflower seeds suspended in flight.
This DVR idea doesn’t work so well with the kids, but I know somebody will change that some day. “Don’t make me pause you!” I always want to say.
Actually for the past few days, I did get to use the pause button during Team Henneke’s great Beachapalooza 2011.
It happened during Labor Day weekend, when all seven of us went to Forks to see mom and some of the beaches where I grew up. Before we came home, we stopped in Newport for one last look at the ocean before returning home. I’ll be going to Montana soon, and I’m excited about the opportunities and the new challenges there. But I’ll miss the people here, some of the natural beauty here, and especially the ocean.
The sun was bright Saturday as I emerged from a 20-minute walk through the lush, green forest that leads to Second Beach. People lined the beach in either direction, some in tents, most with some form of alcohol.
After five minutes of walking on the sand, I sat down on a log to remove my shoes, giving my bare feet full access to the cold sand.
There’s something about the surf that soothes you and takes away all your worries.
Doesn’t matter what’s ahead of you or behind you. The ocean makes it all better.
After carefully tucking my socks inside my white sneakers, I began walking again. A few hundred yards down the sandy beach, I found a pool of water no higher than my ankles. While the crash of the ocean chilled my feet and turned them pink from the cold, this felt different.
This water was warm, so much so, that I walked back and forth like a little kid. As I looked down at the sand, the wind sent ripples through the water.
Didn’t worry about work, bills or relationships. Didn’t fret about anything or open my to-do list.
That’s what happens when you put your life on pause, even for an afternoon. It’s much better than a DVR.