I had to pull the stroller backwards down the softer part of the sand until we got to the wetter, harder sand where the tide recently was. I turn her around and begin my barefoot trek of a morning walk, I could feel I was going further today than usual. The air is thick, it has been a humid summer here and the coastal air is sparse at this hour.
We get our rhythm and the requests from the little one have settled down and all of a sudden, I am caught in a matrix tear. A young boy-ish man is fishing in the water in my view and his backwards hat barely atop his head and his somewhat larger nose with tan legs and how he is leaning on one leg more than the other - he is the spitting image of my first ever boyfriend.
I don’t want to be that creepy mom with a stroller actually staring at a younger man-child but I cannot look away. Or I look away and then look back immediately. Thank God my legs remembered to keep walking as I finally made my way past him and one zillion memories crashed into me like my own tidal wave of thought pulling moments from age 16 through age 18. I recall his thick hair that he did not want anyone to touch and honestly, no one should have touched it as there was so much gel in there it could have created a paper cut. My Aunt Shelly gave him blonde highlights one muggy Houston afternoon when I was getting mine, there was a photo of us with matching foils in our hair. I remember that he roadtripped with my family from Texas to Indiana and got to stay at my Grandmother’s house on our Summer trip up there. He laughed the whole ride up to the Midwest and it wasn’t a soft laugh. I remember he never ever wore jeans, only A&F cargo pants or khakis. One day, he let me take him jean shopping and I was over the moon. It is the little things, always.
First loves. So special.
How fun to see him again.
Not him but the memory in my bone marrow of that time in my life.
And so we keep walking. Navigating seaweed and sinking sand pockets, I begin to sweat. I say ‘good morning’ and ‘hello’ to passerby’s. My favorite moment when interacting with a stranger is the moment you say hi and they are almost shocked you said something and they smile so big and say hi back. Not everyone but almost 88% of them completely have a face changing moment where their eyes soften and the line on their face curves and their shoulders almost flutter receiving energy.
We humans so desperately need one another. I can feel it.
Now more than ever, don’t you agree?
We arrive at the part of the beach that has three big rocks that jut out of the ocean, depending on the tide that hour, you can actually walk to them. Some days there are seals resting on them. Other days a lot of seaweed. Today are all the ducks and ducklings.
A mama duck is in the water with 15 little ducklings all around her. I counted twice just to be sure. FIFTEEN BABIES, how? I stare at her in awe as my little one watches the fluff balls dive under water’s surface over and over again.
I send her a message telepathically, to the mother duck. I say, ‘How do you do it? I have just now gotten my head back above water and I only have three. Tell me your ways. Please.’
I wait for a response.
And wait.
She seems so relaxed. She is not frantically paddling her feet. She is not flapping her wings…ever. She doesn’t even seem to have a tone when she does actually … well, quack. And she is space between her and the ducklings, not hovering or helicoptering at all. She is literally and metaphorically riding the waves out there.
I nod my head, ‘I see’.
Where I have been more of a frantic paddler, obsessive hover-er with my children’s happiness more so lately and my tone, yikes. I take a mental note from mother duck, ride the waves, Jacki. How has it been going trying to grip the waves? You can ride them. The ups and downs, nature’s rhythm.
So wise, Mother duck.
We keep walking. And sweating. I bask in the glow of the mom lesson from a duck. And my daughter asks for rocks to carry along her ride. And then throws them over the side and asks for a new one. To which I oblige when I find a good one.
We turn around to make the trek back and this side of the beach we reached is rather empty. The hotel is where we started and this area we made it to is more private homes. An older couple is making their way up the steps from their walk, I had passed them earlier. I don’t think they said a word the entire time I was trailing them a bit. I wonder if I will ever quiet down? Doubtful.
A woman and her very young daughter are a couple paces up the beach on a yellow and white striped blanket. He daughter is still the age where you tell people how many months she is.
Another woman and her older-ish daughter are walking together up a bit. A distance between them that I can only imagine is adolescence or her daughter wishing she was still reading her sci-fi book but said she would walk with her mom and is now close to getting back to her book but doesn’t want to look in a rush. Only guessing.
Two older women are walking and gabbing. I love them.
We make our way back to our starting point. My high school boyfriend look-a-like is gone. I wish him well and hope he is so happy. We don’t keep in touch but I always feel like energy always keeps in touch. So, I send it.
And I turn the stroller around and haul my daughter back up across the soft sand to start our day again and again.


Matrix timeline shifts are all over the place these days so says my astrologer.
Also, I read this byline as matrix tears (crying eyes) and that also feels true :)
Thanks for taking us on your walk.