The Oasis

I've always wondered what it would be like to be popular, to be well-liked and have people vie for my attention. I never considered the possible downside, the lack of peace and the overturned schedule. Thursday morning started out quietly enough, until I got a phone call. Then someone stopped by my office, followed by two others. At one point there was a literal line of people from various departments at various levels with various needs. One marketing executive stayed for close to two hours, making phone calls to people in other departments through me: “Dial 1234. Ask her if the soloflange will work with the energon.” The actual details are far less interesting, but by lunchtime I had accomplished both a lot and nothing at all. It was one of those mornings.

I was fried and frazzled. It was nice to have reached a point where people sought my opinion, expertise, or perhaps simply my agreeable nature and patience, but my brain had taken far too much input. I wandered the halls in a partial daze, finding my steps taking me toward the exit rather than back to my office to grab a jacket.

As it turned out, though a strong wind made it a little chilly out, I really didn't need the jacket. The more I walked, the warmer I felt, my cells absorbing much needed solar radiation, my lungs drinking in a steady flow of oxygen carrying hint of the ocean air. It had been a long Winter, and the memory of a week in which a snow day threw me completely off schedule for close to three weeks was still fresh in my mind. I had made it to the beach for the first time this year over this past weekend, but couldn't remember the last time I'd had lunch at one of the beaches just over a mile away from my office.

And so I walked into the fresh breeze, pushed through those wind currents to my old oasis. A bagel shop across the street provided all the sustenance I'd need, a hearty bagel packed with salami, ham, provolone, lettuce, tomato, and Italian dressing, accompanied by a potato salad and an iced tea. I carried my precious cargo toward the water, to a deck of picnic tables overlooking waves and sand and sky and trees, the veritable opposite of a twelve square foot office in dull Earth tones. For an hour I heard the forgotten cries of birds, tasted the salty mist upon the air.

An hour later I was back in my office, my system rebooted and my energy recharged. Work was a breeze, every problem solved and every fire doused with time to spare for more exercise at the gym before driving home through yet another awesome sunset. I've missed my lunches at the beach, my dining deck oasis. I've missed the gradual change in my surroundings and myself as I walk further and further away from buildings and civilization. My very first job out of college was within driving distance of a beach, but this is the first one I've had within walking distance of the shore, and I take every opportunity I have to take advantage of that.

Welcome back, outdoors.