I’m not one of those people who wear their emotions on their sleeves, but I thought that I might share this. It is a copy of part of my handwritten journal, so it is not well written or organized.
Thursday, June 3rd, 2010
I have spent the past fifteen minutes or so down here on the beach of St. Kilda. This is the first time that I have touched the sand. I spent a few minutes examining some of the seashells (there are millions of them on this beach!), and I set a few aside in case I decide to take them with me. The sun is at my back, hovering over the city like a graceful protector, shining its beautiful rays upon the beach and the ocean.
I stood at the edge of the water and let it lap about my feet…so cold! And yet, so beautiful. The water is very clear by the shore—as you look out, you can see that the water stays quite shallow for a while. Then the hue of the water changes to a light blue and you can see no deeper. Looking even further, the ocean becomes even darker blue.
I feel the cold water splashing lightly about my ankles and I feel the healing balm upon my soul. Water has always been associated with healing, renewal, life..all the things that I so desperately need. The Mexicans say the ocean has no memory. I believe they are right.
Looking at all of the seashells makes me wonder about the depth of life in this world. Every shell held life in it, and there are millions of them upon this small stretch of beach—one beach among millions more! How much more life is there in this beautiful ocean; swirling, interacting, living? How much more on land? Oh God, why does it feel so difficult to live? There is so much life here, and it doesn’t seem so hard for it!
I finally came across a map which showed which ocean feeds the bay…the Indian Ocean. I have been to the Indian Ocean. How far I have come from Marcola! So many of my old friends are still there, living pretty much as they always had. It seems that I alone have come this far. Yet, I want to go so much further.
I wish to know my place in the world, and to feel it resolutely. Right now, though, I am happy to feel something new…peace. I want to swim in this beautiful blue Indian Ocean of peace, and let it’s healing work cover me and envelop the entirety of my mind, body, and soul.
Oh, peace! Be my lover and linger
‘neath the covers each morning
Caressing me gently, softly.
I have been sitting on a bunch of huge rocks that jut into the water from the beach. My thoughts:
• I am unhappy when I’m settled, yet I want to be happy and settled. As D puts it, I want to “have roots and to fly!”
• Perhaps the nomadic life is the only fulfilling life for me.
• If this is the ocean of peace, new beginnings, and loss of memory, perhaps I should determine what things I wish to forget, which things I wish to be made new, and jump into the water—purging myself of old things, awakening new things, and healing all things within me.
• I am not sure that I am ready to plunge into this ocean just yet. I need more time to think and feel about it.
• I am ready to jump into this ocean right now. I already know how to think and feel about it.
I have moved to another part of the beach. There are more people here. Three guys went into the water for about two minutes, and then two of them came back out. The third is wading out there, as if he is looking for something in the water…heh heh. He’s also talking on his cell phone.
I can see the horizon and the ocean meet here. In the other place my view was cut off by the pier and bunch of boats moored there. I feel open and vulnerable when I see the vastness of this beautiful blue ocean. I feel accepted, too. I feel like it understands what no one else does.
I believe that it holds love in its cool waters.
Is it the cold wind that chills me now, or the thought?
I know that I must make this jump, and yet I hesitate. There are thin tears in my eyes. But why?
It is still early in the day, yet the sun is setting. The sun is setting on a lot of things, it seems.
The ocean is such a deep blue! God, it’s so beautiful!
The guy has finished his phone conversation, and now there are two others in the water. They walk slowly, looking in the water for something.
I am looking in the water for something.
I believe I have found the source of my hesitation, now that I sit at the water’s edge. It is the people. I feel as if they shall see me bare, and will laugh at me. They will see my faults and insecurities and they will hate me for it.
I have thought about it, and have decided to wait, but not for fear of the people. I have no fear of them now. I have decided to wait because I am not ready yet. Saturday will be my day. I will be ready then. I must be. I feel like my life depends upon it in some way.