Pivot, a pause

I stood a little distance from the shore, the cool salty dust against my face, lulling reflection. The vastness of the ocean confronted me with a gentle surrender, effortless and serene. Unlike the mountains, with their demanding paths and stoic heights, the ocean offered a giving embrace. As I gazed into its misty depths, it received my attention, unwavering and complete.

In my journey through life, the mountains have taught me the rhythm of persistence – one foot before the other, the steadfast climb, the reward of a panoramic view at the peak. But now, in this season, I am discovering stillness, about accepting myself in the ocean’s unconditional ‘come as you are’ embrace. It was here, at this shoreline, that I felt a pivot: from active pursuit to simply being.

Humans carry a vast reservoir of love, a limitless capacity to love, yet we often find ourselves entangled in the complexity of giving and receiving it. We are drawn to the sea as if by a primordial instinct, seeking solace in its wisdom. The ocean accepts our excess of love and replenishes us when we are empty.

The horizon before me stretched infinitely, blurring the lines between reality and dreams, chaos and tranquillity, desire and emptiness. Here, at the edge of the world, all became one.

In the mountains, I had learned the art of resilience, the strength to give tirelessly, to become fluid and adaptable. The mountains showed me that it’s possible for the human spirit to bend, to break, and yet, to rise anew, stronger than before. In contrast, the ocean asked for nothing but to lay down my burdens at its shores. While I’ve always harboured a fear of open waters, unable to swim in its depths, my love for it runs deep, born from it and near it, a part of its very essence. I marvel at its inhabitants, particularly the jellyfish, embodying a miracle of controlled power and grace.

Yet, humans often forget the interconnectedness of all life, yearning for simplicity that we mistakenly attribute to other beings. Is the cicada’s intricate 13- and 17-year life cycle underground truly simple? Or the earthworm, experiencing the world with taste buds all over its body, a decadence beyond our comprehension – is that simplicity?

The ocean, with its endless ebb and flow, offers a different kind of simplicity. Its waters are both a mirror and a portal, reflecting our essence while inviting us to delve deeper. It holds untold depths and darkness, yet offers itself selflessly, never overwhelming. The forest must be explored slowly, the mountains faced with humility, but the ocean is always there, welcoming.

“Swim if you wish, or just dip your toes. You were always a part of me. I will always welcome you back. Come home.”

This journey, both inward and outward, echoes a design that exists in all of nature, in its splendid variety. It’s in this realization that I find my anchor and the wind that propels me forward.