First heard this song from the indie movie, Juno, which was the first time I saw Ellen Page in a movie and started having a crush on her. 🌈 Anyway, for me this song feels like a romantic lullaby for a precious person. 💗
It’s short, simple, and sweet. I love listening to it with my earphones in and the volume cranked full. Melts my heart in the entire space of the song. 😊
We’re onto the third quarter of the year already. A lot has happened since last year. I lost a few people but gained a lot of kindred spirits. Not new friends to replace what’s lost, but souls I connect and vibe with. Beautiful, honest, imperfect people who teach me to be kinder and more generous of spirit. Who teach me that it’s okay to be me (softly sassy, quirky Lea and all) and to be more open to possibilities. And I don’t know how it’s possible, but I feel like my world is expanding every day. 😊
I’m also trying to be more honest with myself. And honestly, all I ever want to do is to write, to create, to build a home, to love unconditionally. All these things I’m not just good at, but passionate about. That light me up inside whenever I do them. It would be nice to have someone to share this with. I don’t know if I’m ever truly ready but yes I want this kind of bliss too. And I’ve been thinking more about this lately than before. It would be nice to not be afraid to love and be loved. It would be nice just to hold someone’s hand and share the happiness brimming from within you to your precious person. I’d love to do that someday.
I had a dream. I was reading my poems to you, my face hidden by my leather bound notebook. You were loving me and the sanctity of the moment. You couldn’t seem to keep your eyes away from the light haloing my flushed face. I have never felt more innocent and bold at the same time. I wanted to cup your cheeks with my hands and just gaze into your eyes all night. But you needed to hear my voice. So, I read my poems to you one by one and filled our room with whispers of love and longing, of beauty and hope, of passion and honesty. We both claimed something that was ours and sailed away on calm silken seas, ready to brave tempests together…never to feel lost and alone again. ❤
Ed. July 2, 2019 | Originally written: What now feels like a lifetime ago
An OPM classic I recently discovered. Sure, I’ve heard this song on the radio since I was a kid, but I’m only appreciating it now. I could listen to this all day because it instantly lifts me up and makes me happy. It’s one of my go-to pick-me-up songs.
Laguna is a place, but for me in this song, it’s more of a state of being. This song pulls me into the more philosophical and spiritual interpretation. Laguna being a state of spiritual enlightenment–when you’ve transcended the 3D plane, or at least, set it aside for a while to just enjoy the moment without getting stuck in the trappings of daily living that involves routines, responsibilities, chores, work, and bills. It doesn’t even matter where you are at the moment–you can be in a secluded shady spot by the beach, or in the midst of your quiet time alone in your own room. What matters is that you get to that place where there is peace and you feel connected to the Universe–one with everything around you. Then you get to rejuvenate and realign yourself so that when you’re finally ready to go back to the physical world again, you feel stronger–a better version of yourself who’s ready to face anything life throws at you.
She takes off her hat and kicks up small splashes amongst the waves. She inhales long breaths of the sea air, which clear her head. Possibly the ones observing her speculate then about the manner in which delight seems to overtake her and to fill her with the joy of anticipation. And are surprised as she is by her acceptance of her fate. For in the space of time it has taken to walk from the seawall to the sea, perhaps the distance of a hundred yards, she has passed from being a girl, with a child’s pent-up and nearly frenzied need to sweep away the rooms and cobwebs of her winter, to being a woman. — Fortune’s Rocks (Anita Shreve)
I imagine that might be a bit like how I welcomed the waves at sea, sans the part about discovering desire, of course. Mine’s more of recapturing that feeling of blissful freedom every time I reunite with the sea.
It was dark. Whatever bit of light we had came from artificial sources. Even the moon and the stars chose to conceal themselves. The sea was a huge rolling mass of darkness. I was hypnotized by the sound and sight of waves crashing on the shore; I just had to see it all up close. I picked up my slippers and walked to the shore slowly, tentatively, as if every imprint I left on the sand, every step mattered. I skirted dangerously close to the water’s edge, letting small waves lap at delicate feet. The water was very warm and inviting indeed; a contrast to the slightly chilly air. I was excited. A splish, a splash. I kicked my feet playfully, delighting in the feel of both water and sand caressing my feet. I could smell the salt in the air, every breath reinvigorating both body and soul. I was awestruck as I took it all in–the semi-darkness and the rough waves, both a magnificent and terrifying sight. I decided to flirt with danger and be a little adventurous. I ventured a little further, advancing as though I would brave every wave head on, and then retreating when it almost crashes to my knees. I pulled my dress up so it wouldn’t get wet. Then suddenly I felt it–that familiar feeling of pure bliss, as if all my inhibitions fled and I was left standing there for all the world to see–real and vulnerable. I waded a little, splashed a little, laughed and smiled a lot. I almost couldn’t contain it–this love affair with the sea.