Sunshine and Margaritas on the Beach

In meditate, relax by lauranoll Comments

Not too long ago, I realized that I’ve never been to a beach resort. Despite the countless days I spent glued to MTV Spring Break through the teenage years, I never actually made it out of the states with friends. Not for sand. Not for alcohol. Not for going wild.

The epiphany was a bit of a bummer – one that would have to be quickly remedied. I immediately added “margaritas on a beach” to my wanderlist. Of course, I assumed I’d have to book a trip to Cancun to ever make good on the goal.

Wrong, again.

In no time at all, my feet were sinking into the sugar sands of Clearwater Beach, Florida. Friends – beaches are amazing.

I’ll admit, I’m a mountain girl. I love the cold. I love the rocky shores of Oregon. I love being bundled against the breeze and drinking stout beer next to a fire. Or, better yet, in the hot tub while it snows.

But, you guys, I had no idea a beach could be so damn wonderful. For days, I did absolutely nothing in the sun. I sat in the ocean and let the waves roll over my legs. Then, I’d go back to my blanket and lay in the sunshine to continue doing absolutely nothing. And I did this over and over and over again with zero repercussions.

It was glorious.

Somewhere in the midst of all the nothing, I remembered to mix a margarita or two. And that was even better.

The hot sun turned my skin every shade of fuchsia – but I didn’t have time to care. The light burn faded to a warm honey as the week went on. Each day, I shook my beach wrap, laid it on the ground and snuggled into the cool fabric for a few more hours. In that time on the beach, I’m nearly certain I became the most boring aunt in the world. But for the first time in years, finally turned my brain off and enjoyed the nothingness.

Is sun-drunk a thing? I feel like that has to be a thing. I was sun-drunk on Clearwater Beach. I was so relaxed, so zen and in such bliss that beaches took on a whole new role in my life. They’re where I stop. I can’t have the laptop there – it will be filled with fine, impossible-to-clean sand. I can’t be on the phone there – it’s too bright to see. Everything was unintentionally minimalist – I could only carry my bag, wrap and drink.

It was just simple. So, so simple.