Each day finds my body becoming weaker, yet my resolve to do hard things grows stronger. This dichotomy is my internal daily battle. The kayak looks heavy, too heavy perhaps, but I sum up the will power to pull it off its wall mount and drag it to the ocean’s edge.

Time to kayak the pristine waters around Whidbey Island.

Temporarily out of breath, I rest on the shoreline for a minute while internally navigating my route, judging the tide that will be going out again in a few hours. The water is as smooth as butter spread over warm bread as I put the paddle into the water….

Seals chase me from a distance, their heads popping up to watch this new stranger in their territory. Sea birds fill the air with music. Large cruise ships float by on the horizon as they head out to the open sea. I relish the burn in my arms and continue to paddle onward.

I find empty stretches of coastline, far away from any humans. I strip down and explore, letting the sun bake my naked skin as I walk like the ancient dwellers and nomads of this land, feeling a deep connection to the past.

A jellyfish floats past my kayak in silence. I take it as a sign from the Great Mother that she is watching over me on this journey.

I can barely get the kayak out of the water upon my return, but my body feels stronger, at least in spirit.

Which, these days, is all I really want.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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