Transforming Fear into Faith and then FLOW

Had a thought the other day.

How can something we so feared as a child turn into something we desire, seek or crave as an adult?

Cannon Beach has always been my home. A place in my heart that has lived even throughout years of travel, being in other cities or even the misery of my own mind.

It has lived joyfully like the town, the village, where everyone knows your name. The place I walked through as a kid on the way to kindergarten, back pack strapped around my shoulders and never passed more than 10 feet without hearing, seeing, or waving at someone I knew.

This town has always held the essence of family, community, and connection for me. Quiet and sweet. Artistic and brave. Sure and steady like Terrible Tilly is actually shining her light on our coastline as Haystack Rock anchors us all.


I suppose a part of me has always wanted to feel the essence of this town, and become a part of it, give back to it, create with it. . .

When I was a kid my Grandma had a house on Taft Street and I would have this sometimes awful dream. I’d wake up right in the middle of town, in the dark, empty, streets in silence, sidewalk damp, all alone. . .

The dream would always send a chill down my spine with resounding feelings and fears:  I do not want to be in this place alone. I don’t like it when it’s cold and wet here.





This same chill would haunt me every winter. Feeling alone in my plight of “individuality”. Feeling bored because it was too cold and too wet to be outside. Feeling pulled into the darkness through the long winters in this town.

I’ve been pulled under a few times. This much I admit and know is apparent in my story.

BUT I’ve also popped back up a few more times…

And while this feeling, this nightmare, this fear that used to shiver down my spine sits on the edge of an unknown future yet again… I found myself last week walking out onto Hemlock Street towards the middle of town on a very hot, full, August summer day wishing for a moment, craving it, just one, to stand in the street, bare, dark, damp, wet and empty so I could feel the love in this town, this village, this home that I have always known was here.



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