Have your tears ever frozen on your face? Mine did twice on Thursday.

It was an odd sensation. I felt the warmth of my tears welling up, and just as they started their gentle descent down the slope of my cheek, they hardened, momentarily permanent, refusing to be quickly wiped away, excused, forgotten. As often has happened the past couple of years, the tears weren’t triggered by anything in particular. It usually comes with a deep breath, a permissive opening in the body for feelings to take up space and refuse to be ignored.

In case you haven’t heard (or seen) yet, the 90s are in style. Even puka shell necklaces (I peeped some on a group of teens I walked past recently and couldn’t believe my eyes). Grab your baggy jeans, turn up your favorite boy band, part that hair straight down the middle, and dig up your old slap bracelet, because it’s time to live your best life resurrecting an era that was definitely not my epitome of cool. I’m so stoked to have a chance to try again!

Today the sunshine feels like a warm hug. The cold ocean feels like a reset. The quiet alone feels like an old friend.

Today, all things that I’ve needed.

Today, sadness and grief and loneliness are palpable and I’m really not quite sure of why. And I hate not knowing why.

As I write this, I’m sitting on a bluff overlooking ocean, the line of the horizon blurred by the lingering, distant fog gently moving away from the coast. There’s not much out there but the occasional, gentle lapping of a white cap and a sailboat lazily drifting at the will of the inconsistent thrusts of wind. I take a deep inhale and experience emotions welling up in my body as I breathe out.

I made it.

Yesterday I gave myself a hug. A real hug, as if it was coming from someone else holding me, and when I was about to let go, squeezing a little harder because that is what I would do with someone else, so why not give myself the extra love too?

My roommate has a perfectly minimal, slightly faded, image of the ocean cropped in a circle against white matting, in a gold frame hanging on the wall. Thoughtfully penciled beneath is the following quote from Isak Dinesen:

The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears, or the sea.