Worries vanish, within my dream.

There has been a couple days of silence on this blog and I have been thinking a lot about this blogging thing.  I find at the moment it feels like a constant balancing act, what to share, what to leave out, what is relevant and what is intrinsically personal and mine.  But I have begun to realise that this level of thought, criticism and analysis that goes into each post some how sucks the soul out of what I am trying to say and dilutes the emotion I feel behind what I am writing.  It is funny how much an imaginary audience can give you stage fright.

Yesterday, following a moment of childish frustration, James gathered up the piles of revision I was slamming about on the table and made me get into the car.  He packed a picnic and new music for the stereo, the shrimping net and his surf board and a pile of books and drove me to the sea.

Weighed down with the bags, we walked the two miles through the dunes.  By the time I could hear the water roaring, my sense of perspective was returning and by the time James unveiled the hidden Thermos of tea, I simply felt silly that anything as insignificant as an exam could shake me.  When in front of the ocean drinking tea and watching the sunset with the man you love, it is impossible to remember how anything else could ever have seemed important.

And in five months time I will be done with this.  In five months time I will have qualified and James will be a doctor.  In five months time we will have a new home in a new city, and where ever that city is, it will be home.  Heck, in five months I will probably miss this era of my life but for today, I am simply grateful for the sea, for James, for beetroot, pearl barley + olive salad and for the tiny fish that was the only thing we caught with the shrimping net that day.

(and don't worry, he was promptly released).