This weekend my family took our first trip since the pandemic struck. We drove out to Cape Cod, giddy with the chance to finally get a change of scenery after months of being house bound.
It was restorative and enjoyable, and a good opportunity to get some perspective. I had never been there before, and was in awe the whole time over the landscape. Jutting out into the Atlantic, the cape feels like a world apart, a portal to another planet.
This morning we got one last look at the ocean, walking on the beach in the shadow of the cliff-like dunes, seeing seals poke their heads above the roaring surf. I exulted in the reminder of my smallness as a solitary individual facing the massive, limitless ocean. It's a feeling I got all the time growing up under the impossibly vast Nebraska sky, and one I get these days only at the seashore. It's the kind of feeling that keeps one grounded.
Last night we went to the calmer bay side for sunset. We watched the sun go down as the tide came in, filling the tide pools around us, almost surrounding us with rising water. It was a little scary, and another good reminder that nature is so much bigger than we are.
It all makes it easier for me to face what last week seemed insurmountable. Teaching and parenting in this time of pandemic and distance learning is not easy. Weirdly enough, remembering my smallness in the grand scheme of the universe takes some of the pressure off. I hope everyone else out there can have a similar moment of serenity as we confront the difficult road ahead.
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