Iceberg to Arugula

Last week was a rough one. Major projects due, sick child, avalanches of e-mails, presentations to prepare, assorted conference calls, laundry begging to be done and to cap it all off, the unexpected and untimely passing of a colleague of mine. I stumble into the weekend deeply weary, saddened and suffering from my second migraine of the week.

It’s time to run away.

I generally post about food and the experience of eating, but not today. Today is about self preservation and the importance of taking badly needed mental heath days. 

When I’m overwhelmed, I retreat to the ocean. Generally I favor the Marin Headlands in the Golden Gate Recreation Area, a hilly, lush green swath of land just north of San Francisco. I’ve been escaping here for years in times I needed to recapture my sanity when it threatened to float away from me like a helium balloon.

About two hours from my home, even the drive is therapeutic. The hot Sacramento valley temperatures fade as I drive toward the cooler marine climate. I cross the southern portion of the Napa and Sonoma wine country admiring the beauty of the espaliered grapevines already showing signs of the harvest to come. Taking the last exit off Southbound US 101 before crossing the Golden Gate bridge into San Francisco, I find myself on a quiet deserted road that loops around and leads to a tunnel. Deep below the highway, the tunnel connects the outside world to the beautifully undeveloped Headlands.   

The tunnel itself is long and utilitarian, lined with black stained concrete. Dark, dank and hushed, it’s vaguely sanitarium like, though I find it oddly comforting. On the other side, I pass families of quail quietly grazing along the side of the road and catch a fleeting glimpse of a dodgy fox. Mist washes briskly over the verdant hills and casts a cool gauzy haze over the sun. I feel my jaw beginning to relax and my shoulders drop. I open my windows to let the eucalyptus infused sea air wash over my weary psyche and allow my mind to luxuriate in nothingness.

I spend 1-2 days on these journeys, I only get to do it once, maybe twice per year. Fortunately I have a wonderful husband who perhaps doesn’t completely understand my need to run away but respects that I need to do so and is willing to hold down the fort while I recharge. 

Do you need to get away too?

Some things to consider:

1. Figure out where makes you happy. I can’t answer that one for you. Might be the mountains, might be your own backyard, spend some time thinking about it

2. If possible, go alone. I‘ve found much personal renewal happens as soon as I remove the external interference. This includes other people. I speak as little as possible on these retreats, frequently going entire days without having uttered a word. (I’m sure people who know me well will find that hard to believe, but it’s true). It helps me think about where I am in my life, where I’m going as well as what I can do better. Virtually every time, I return home with a deep gratitude for what I have.  

3. Pick the right time. Frequently I end up on Stinson Beach which is a little farther North than the headlands. It’s a great three and a half mile walking beach, but it’s horrifyingly clogged with beachgoers on Summer and holiday weekends. I go on weekdays, early in the morning before the marine layer clears. Save for a few fishermen, I’m alone; coddled intimately between the earth and sea in a thick blanket of mist that all but blots out the sun. It sets the mood for my wandering meditation.

4. Make no plans, do what feels right. On the beach, I search for seaglass. Periodically, I stop, sit and think. I also write, because that’s what makes me happiest. I write about what I’m feeling and what I’m seeing. This post was mostly written on the beach, on a pad of paper which brings me to the next rule….

5. No electronics. I switch off my cell and leave it in the car. My beloved red mini laptop is stowed in my office at home. I am happily oblivious to the news the whole time I’m gone.

6. Music is deeply transformative for me, I choose carefully what I listen to because it sets the mood. I avoid the radio or anywhere I must listen to ads or news. For this trip, I listened to serene Spanish classical guitar music.

7. Eat well. Seek out good food or bring your own. It’s hard to recharge when your gut is groaning from a load of greasy, heavy fried or fast food.  At Stinson Beach, I like the Parkside Cafe. It was the site of one of my “wow” meals several years ago. A simple unfussy plate of sautéed English peas, early tomatoes, herbs and linguine that was deliciously well beyond the sum of it’s parts.

8. Guilt. It wasn’t really an issue for me to escape when I was single. But now as a wife and mother, I have two housemates to consider and for a while I felt guilty about it. After talking it over with my husband, I realized that a temporarily absent mommy is better than a stressed out screaming one.

I arrived home today. Healed, transformed, recharged and ready to face my life again….tomorrow.

This post is dedicated to Anita Michalovskis 1/7/60-6/19/10. Rest in peace friend.