San Diego Dreams |

I don’t have to tell any of you guys that sometimes, things just don’t like to work out the way you want them to. It could be anything, from how your morning starts, to how you want to wrangle your to-do list, to how a party turns out, etc. Sometimes I get frustrated when things don’t go how I want them to, since it ends up affecting everything that may come after it. But like the Garth Brooks song says, some of God’s greatest gifts are unanswered prayers.

This little maxim came to hit me in the face again when I went to San Diego. Before this trip, I couldn’t tell you the last time I had been to San Diego. There are pictures of me, my mother and my aunt at the San Diego Zoo, but I was barely old enough to walk then. On some of my trips out to Los Angeles I would see the turn-offs that would take me to San Diego, and I often considered just taking one of those turn-offs to see where it would take me.

I decided to actually go to San Diego at the end of last year, when I started making a list of haunted monuments that I wanted to see. The story I read about the Whaley House immediately caught my interest (that experience will be in another post) and I figured since it was close to home, it would make for a prime weekend trip. Not only that, I needed a little beach time. I had this grand vision of spending the day at the beach with my dogs, me getting a tan on my beach blanket and my dogs enjoying the shoreline, digging in the sand and the sunset.


The drive was nice. I was told by friends of friends before I left it had taken them nearly seven hours to get there when they had gone because of construction, but I made it just outside the five hours that I had estimated. My hotel (Motel 6, since the fur babies were with me) was located just a couple miles away from the Mexican border, and it was the nicest one I’ve ever been in. It would have been nice to have princess parking in front of my room, but the hardwood floors and the soft mattresses made up for the extra steps I had to make as I unloaded the car.

My first stop was the beach. I drove all the way to Ocean Beach, which was about thirty minutes away from the hotel with traffic. There were plenty of beaches that allowed dogs (Ocean Beach was the closest of the ones I looked into) and it was easy to find. What was more surprising, it was easy to park. I’m not sure if I was supposed to pay for the parking, but no one said anything so…I did not. But by the time I got out of the car and got the dogs out of the car, I realized I forgot one very important thing – my beach bag. I wasn’t about to drive all the way back to the hotel and all the way back, so I decided we were going to make due. We walked along the shore and watched the surfers making their way in and out of the water. After a little mishap right along the shore (in which I greatly misjudged how far the water would come in, thus soaking my wee fur babies up to their necks), we settled in a spot on the sand and watched the waves roll in. The serenity of the ocean waves and the crisp air brought to a sense of peace that I search for endlessly when I practice yoga, and so rarely can obtain. It may not have been the exact beach day that I envisioned when I left home, but it gave me just what I was looking for – a disconnect from the outside world and a sense of wonder that is rarely replicated. What more could I ask for?


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