Travel – ERINN OXFORD

Posted on June 25, 2025 by erinnoxford · 3 Comments

Immersed: A Sensory Walk by the Ocean

I recently spent an afternoon walking nearly 8 kilometres along the shoreline of the ocean. I had a towel in the crook of my arm and a bag in my other hand, arranged to hold my sandals too. The sand before getting to the water’s edge was hot, nearly burning my feet. It cooled and firmed up by the waves. I could taste salt in the air.

As I walked, I took notice of the imprints left by the pearls of people’s toes or the full tread of a shoe, the webbed feet of seagulls or the paws of dogs. I had to keep watch for jelly fish beached in the sand, careful as to not get stung. I examined a few of their gelatinous brown bodies and thin red tendrils, occasionally noticing them pulse with some life, almost as though catching a breath.

I waded into the water, waves cresting at my knees. Seaweed sometimes curled around my ankles — pungent and green in varying shades. I stooped to examine bits of sea glass, mussel shells, and sunlit rocks that gleamed like gems.

Eventually I found an outcropping of rocks that I could sit on and let my feet linger in the water, my toes digging around the floor of the sea. A bug I could not identify landed on my arm and proceeded to stare as if to size me up. I took the snack out of the bag I was lugging around: strawberries, hulled and washed, sitting in a blanket of paper towel, water, and a container of nuts. The strawberries were deep red and the perfect amount of juicy sweet.

I gazed at the enormous sky, blue with only a few clouds. The Spiritual Director I am meeting with while in this part of the world has encouraged me to reflect on the landscape before me. And so, I tried to still my busy inner voice and decided to play with some sand. I noticed its soft, gritty texture, how it filled every crevice, how it could take on any shape. In the sunlight, it sparkled like glitter.

The wind picked up and my hair got wild. A few people greeted me as they passed. A child splashed in the water with glee. I thought of how my mom would have loved exploring in this way. Tears mixed with salt water air stung my eyes. I listened to the many sounds around me, including the crash of waves, the squawk of gulls, the wind and even my own feet hitting the ground. I left my belongings in a pile and went into deeper water, cooled by the embrace of the ocean.

As part of my Sabbatical practice, I have been attentive to the five senses. I write in a journal that is set up for me to reflect on what I have seen, heard, tasted, smelled and touched each day. I have found this helpful as I try to ground myself in the moment.

I eventually made my way back to where I began—windswept, sun-drenched, my towel now damp and my bag lighter. Arguably, my spirit was lighter too.

Postscript: Writing is an important part of the way I process, and so I will occasionally share about this sabbatical journey here on my blog. My sabbatical includes a commitment to be intentionally off-line about 98% of the time, and so I look forward to interacting more upon my return in September.

Posted on May 15, 2025 by erinnoxford · 3 Comments

Searching for Peace Amidst Change: My Sabbatical Journey

I am sitting in the sun as I write. I can hear woodpeckers but cannot seem to spot them. There is a light breeze that brings with it the heavy scent of lilacs. It sounds bucolic, though I am in the middle of the city. I am trying to sort out a wide assortment of feelings from a chair in my backyard, which has included me ugly crying in it. I have just completed week two of my sabbatical.

These early days of my time off have caused both joy and discomfort. I am grateful for the gift that it is to have this sizeable chunk of time off. I feel supported and encouraged. And, right now I am also out-of-sorts. During my last week we held a funeral for a community member named Barry and learned of the death of another, named Phil. Grief upon grief, which I will attend to, except I’m used to grieving over time in the context of our community. I really miss The Dale. Then my daughter Cate moved out. I am excited for her and deeply proud of this step she has taken. This too is true: I really miss being in close proximity to her.

As I navigate this time, I realize that I am used to the rhythm of rest that I have held for years. This includes Fridays as my Sabbath and August as vacation. When July rolls around I can feel my body anticipating the cessation of work during the dogdays of summer. But this year? Well, I don’t think my body understands exactly what’s going on. A number of people have suggested that I am likely more tired than I realize, which I can hear. Believe me when I say I know having this time is a privilege and I really want to settle into it and the rest it will provide.

Part of the challenge right now is holding so many seemingly disparate feelings at the same time. I have to remind myself of what I often say to others: two things can be true at once. I can be grateful and sad. I can know there is wisdom in a decision and still find it uncomfortable. I can want to get out of the way and desire to be in the middle of the action. I can long for connection and solitude. Life is not a straight line.

My counsellor and I talked about a phrase that I might say to myself when I am tipping toward anxiety about my absence from The Dale. I came up with this, “No matter what you do or don’t do, you are beloved.” I close my eyes and turn my head to the sky to say just that. The busyness in my brain begins to slow and my senses are heightened. I think of Barry and Phil in a way that makes me smile. I consider my love and esteem for The Dale Girls. I know that I will see Cate soon. Dion and I get to spend far more time together and he’s helping me ask good questions about this sabbatical. I am experiencing the care of The Dale community in a different way and know that they are also taking care of one another.

The sun has moved its position. Occasionally a cloud passes over it and I sit in its shadow. A squirrel is digging in a container that I am about to plant some flowers in. Next week Cate and I will be going on an adventure of a trip. I just turned 50. This time is not moving fast. I imagine this means it has more to teach me about being present to the moment. Week three now begins.

Posted on October 27, 2024 by erinnoxford · 2 Comments

Life, Loss, and Community: Reflections from a Meaningful Retreat

I had a dream the other night. In it I was surrounded by people I have been missing from The Dale since their deaths. We were all together in a room simply hanging out. One woman walked over and said, “I haven’t been able to give you a bear hug in a while”, and then proceeded to enfold me in a long embrace. It all felt both ordinary and extraordinary. I woke with a sense that I had just been given a gift, and I haven’t been able to shake that feeling since.

In the weeks leading up to my dream, I found myself thinking of my friends a lot. This was especially true during the planning of our first community retreat since 2019. One day I had to pull out a file folder with the sign-up sheets from previous retreats, which took me down a rabbit hole of memories. Though I know exactly who is no longer with us, I felt overwhelmed by the volume of loss and the reality that they would have been some of the first to sign up for our excursion.

I continued to feel the absence of these friends during the school bus ride up north to Camp Crossroads, the settling into cabins, and eating our first meal in the lodge. At one point I lifted my face up to the sky and said, “they would have loved this”. The moment was broken when some of our group came outside to join me in looking up. Together we breathed in the air that smelled of pine and wood smoke, commented on the beauty of the lake, and chatted about the plan for the evening.

Over the course of the next couple of days, we went on walks, sat on the dock, put together puzzles, played games, ate lots of food, slept, gathered around campfires, took out boats, and talked. Joanna and I jumped in, and very quickly out, of the lake. Meagan’s kindergarten aged daughter Charlotte drew pictures of people as gifts. Some gathered for Morning Prayer. On the last day we sang, shared gratitude, and took communion together. By the end of it people felt closer, some commenting on how they are now more a part of the community.

The retreat helped me to grieve and to hope. I felt able to name that I was missing people. I also got to be present with an amazing group of people who did sign up and get on that bus. Maybe that’s part of what brought about my dream. Life continuing does not mean forgetting. And remembering does not mean excluding. The table is wide and there is always room for more.

Posted on May 7, 2022 by erinnoxford · 2 Comments

Calm in Chaos: The Story of an Adventure

It was the end of what had been a magical trip. Just a little over a week prior, Cate and I somewhat spontaneously and with the help of good friends, flew ‘across the pond’ to London. We started at a B&B that I randomly found, which was nestled along a river and at the end of a picturesque tree lined laneway. We then moved to Chorleywood, a village considered part of the Greater London Urban Area. Those good friends I just mentioned found us a house to stay in while the owners were away, we just had to feed their cat.

Cate and I mostly wandered the entirety of our trip. We walked and took transit. When we felt hungry, we would stop to eat. It was an unusually hot and sunny time in the UK, which led to Cate getting a terrible sunburn that she kept declaring, “wasn’t that bad”. We went to the Tate Modern and our favourite, the National Portrait Gallery. The Sherlock Holmes Museum at 221b Baker Street turned out to be fantastic. We also got to eat the best Indian take-out with our friends in their beautiful back garden.

With all of these and so many more memories stowed, we arrived at the airport to get home. I don’t like to be late, so we even got there a little early- more than three hours ahead for a 1 pm flight. We settled in, got a drink and positioned ourselves close to the screen that would tell us what gate we would be boarding at. For the first hour it said, “Gate pending”. I spoke with an attendant who assured us there was enough time to grab something to eat. We found sushi on a conveyor belt, which Cate loved, and found our way back to the screen. At this point there was a blank space where the Gate number should have been. This did not change, for hours.

By mid-afternoon, well after our flight should have been in the air, every passenger was asked to go to a room in another area of the airport. We had to show our identification to get in. Once it was certain everyone was there, they told us the news: your flight has been cancelled. There are no alternative flights, so you are stuck here for at least the next three days. In order to get a voucher for a hotel and food you must line up in yet another area. If you leave, you forfeit any help from the airline. Cue general hysteria.

Cate and I felt so bad for some of our fellow passengers. One was going to miss their only sibling’s wedding. Another only brought enough of their medication for the trip and could be in serious trouble without it. Some people were extremely mad and expressed it by shouting. As we filed out of what was a very claustrophobic room, the tensions only increased. Then we proceeded to wait in line…for hours, with no access to food. I am not joking when I say that Cate was the calmest person in the room. She found a spot to sit, listened to music, drew pictures, and read while I tried to sort out our next moves on the phone and in prayer. It was midnight by the time Cate and I got to the front of the line.

Fortunately, and rather miraculously, not only did we get one of the last hotel rooms available, they found us a flight for the next day. However, it was at a different airport and clear across town from the hotel. We would have to leave the hotel at 4 am. By this point the promise of even three hours of sleep in a bed felt like a win, so we took the offer and got in a cab. Having not eaten since before noon, we needed food. Unfortunately, the only thing open was a gas station outside of the hotel, so we bought instant ramen noodles, chocolate bars, and drinks (the dinner of champions). As we finally walked up to the hotel, we noticed that it was pulsating because of blaring music. Of course, it was prom night. A whole lot of sequins and teenage angst made my exhausted self burst into laughter. Cate immediately suggested we join the party.

We did get home the next day. It was a trip to remember, in so many ways. I tell this story now because I think it says a lot about who Cate is, and on this eve before Mother’s Day, I am thinking about her. There is an optimism to Cate that is striking. It’s not that she hasn’t experienced hard things- in fact, I would argue she is more acquainted with challenge than someone her age even should be. This has not made her hard though. She loves an adventure and is almost always up for a party. When a flight I was supposed to be on was recently cancelled, Cate’s text to me was this: “Oh alright! You should have a wild night in Dallas. It’ll be great”. That’s my girl. I am so grateful to be her mom.

Posted on October 18, 2015 by erinnoxford · 3 Comments

Ciao da Roma (Hello from Rome)

I am writing from Rome, Italy. Had you asked me if I would be doing this even just weeks ago I would probably have laughed and explained that while a trip with Cate was certainly on the radar I couldn’t have imagined it this fall. For some time we have been commiserating as a family about how to mark Cate’s “coming of age” or in other words, becoming a teenager. Not long ago we attended a beautiful bat mitzvah that strengthened our resolve to somehow celebrate this milestone. Together we decided that a mother/daughter trip to a location chosen by Cate would be our special event.

Since September I have been fairly quiet here, in part because life got even more full than my already full norm. I sort of put my head down, wrote a handful of grant proposals, spent a lot of time with The Dale community, did a funeral, went on hospital visits, helped get Cate back into school, choir and dance routine, enjoyed Thanksgiving and tried to stay on top the administration of both my work and home. In the midst of all this we managed to find the money and a window of opportunity for Rome, a reality I’m still pinching myself about.

I think if the only thing I got to do on this trip was watch Cate’s face upon her first glimpse of the Colosseum it would be worth it. Seeing this place through two sets of eyes is a wondrous treat. We are surrounded by history. Yesterday we went to Pompeii and walked where others did until their city was covered by volcanic ash and forgotten in 79 AD. We are being reminded of the beauty and brutality of the Romans. We are also enjoying modern Rome: getting around on its transit system, eating amazing food and seeing where the old meets the new.

I am so proud of Cate and the young woman she is. Cate is mature beyond her years and yet not in a rush to be older than she is. She notices things: the detail in an ancient mosaic, the person sleeping in a doorway, the aroma of a bakery. She also seems to know this is an experience that not every thirteen year-old will have and is doing what she can to not take it for granted. She is eagerly writing about everything in her journal and excited to share it with Dion upon our return. We will only be here for a little over a week, but I know this is an experience we will never forget.