A woman stood in front of an easel on the sidewalk on the seawall high above the beach. On a picnic table next to her, a friend had brushes and paints spread out next to her own canvas.
We stopped to talk to them for a moment and admire their work. They were from the UK, on a watercolor painting trip. They’d come with a group tour to make paintings of the coastal towns we were adventuring through. What a lovely way to holiday.
The next day, we hiked along a secret beach. Almost no one else was around, save for a few camper vans parked in the nearby parking lot. And walking along the water were five humans, totally naked, playing in the shallow water of the seaweed-laden shore with their two dogs.
Since I’ve come to know my inner wise woman, the place I most often see her is high on a cliff, overlooking a vast expanse of water, where she sits to watch the sun pass across the horizon. When we went to Portugal to walk the cliffs of the Rota Vicentina, I had the hope that maybe I’d find her, or at least find the place I so often see her.
I didn’t find her on a cliff. Instead, she seemed to speak to me from the women painting seascapes and the women walking naked along the secluded beach. She’s telling me that these are the places I will find my most free and authentic self; that the way forward is to follow creative joy and be unapologetically, unashamedly, completely yourself. And to keep my eyes open for every chance to take an art trip and swim in my birthday suit.