Since we started this thing, most mornings we spend the first couple hours of the day reserved for ourselves. Whether reading for inspiration, creative writing, or just enjoying the quiet to let the mind wander, it is sacred, quiet, alone time that we spend right next to each other.
This routine is the solution that we came up with to deal with our chronic workaholism. Both of us addicted to getting stuff done, have let the business take over our entire lives, and ironically, in the end our will to work on it.
This concentrated space, ready at arms length to the demands of work, life, and each other, increases the risk of losing ourselves completely, and missing our own lives. So with our solitary mornings we have carved out a large enough space for us to briefly exist individually, together.
On this day we broke that rule because of a product launch that we were trying to get out, a big gamble in product strategy that resulted in almost 6 months worth of work, finally seeing the light of day this week.
Although unhappy to skip our morning routine, we got down to business right after waking up, and didn’t come up for air for most of the day.
Fortunately Casper has found a way to occupy himself, while we fall back into our old “work-smash” routines.
He has graduated from guarding our spot from anyone walking by, growling at them even if he already knows who they are, to now running around with the other dogs in the yard, and endlessly pestering the yard manager, Paco the Gato.
Just like a child who has discovered the independence that comes with riding a bicycle to a friend’s house, Casper now really only wants to come home for dinner, and even then, as soon as he’s done, he’s back at the door to go out and play with his new friends again.
Work claimed the entire day. It’ll consume as much as we will let it, and today we let it. But in defiance of its unending demands, we decided to salvage the last vestiges of daylight that remained by going to the beach to catch the day’s sunset.
As the beach faces East, with a mountain to the West diffusing the waning light, sunsets here are indirect shows, with Jacques Cousteau Island and the sky above it painted each day with a unique variation of soft pastels.
We packed the dog in the car and drove to the beach down the road to soothe our screen irradiated eyes with the balm of this natural light, ground our feet in the cooling sand, and let the gentle sound of the surf replace the constant whine of our always on computer fans.
In less than 30 minutes, the reset was nearly instant.
With the show over, walking back to the car, Casper saw a guy who sat down on the beach with his daughter having come out of the beachside restaurant. Being a natural scavenger from his LA street dog roots, he went to go sniff them out.
In trying to get Casper to leave them alone, we started chatting about kiteboarding, as one does around these parts.
He was a Canadian down here for the month, to feed his wind addiction. It changed his life, he said. With this sport, once you get over the initial investment of equipment and time on the water to practice and take your lumps, you come out on the other side being able to harness the free energy of the wind for an endless high that you can (and do) chase around the world.
Having learned that I was about to take lessons, he shared with me his recommended YouTube channel to watch in preparation.
We then said our good byes, collected the dog, and returned to the trailer, having achieved our goal of forgetting completely about work.
All that was left to do then was to binge watch all of the beginning kiteboarding videos, late into the night.
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