I believe the beach…can wash away all my sins. Gazing over that sea of blue makes me feel as though perhaps, just maybe, today my problems aren’t so very vast and expansive. There is something somewhere within the depths of the water that resonates and makes me feel ever so small, yet secure. I want to swim out over the never-ending view to the utopia where the blue water meets the pale sky, and spend the rest of my years cart-wheeling on the horizon.
I believe with one cleansing dip, the salty water can take years off my heart. When my heart is broken and I just want to wade into the water until I can’t go any further…I go for a swim. As I am tossed by the waves and struggle against them I become exhausted and ready to succumb and let my heart pull me down. But the water lifts me up, cleansing the fresh burns in my heart and making old scars quite soft, supple and bearable. As I emerge from the water I am so exhausted, breathless there is nothing left, but to look toward the future with a renewed hope.
When I’m abusive towards my body, taking it for granted, the beach gets me in shape. It urges me to run, pushing my muscles to the limits, stretching away the aches and so pragmatically catching up on sleep and vitamin D simultaneously as I nap in the sun.
The beach is the only cure for the world hangover. The lethargic haze left over from a week, perhaps a month of pure struggle and chaos. When I come to realize that my life has become a dull throbbing in my head, sore achy joints and a fuzzy feeling I can’t shake, making me forget what I’m doing here. The sand can exfoliate that deadness and the sand is where I go lay my broken body to sleep it off. Whenever sadness pollutes my thoughts, I can offer my tears to the beach and I can tell the beach anything. I believe that God sent the salty breeze, to kiss my cheek and comfort me. To cool tears of anger, of heartache, of confusion. The beach is my therapist; stripping down layers one by one until I can again, see my soul.
The beach is always there for me, it listens, it quiets the turmoil in my head with its soothing lapping waves, which disappear for a while, but then are back again. The beach teases me, I am always being relentlessly pursued before the waves withdraw, and I chase the beach. It is a dance we do through life. Up and down, blissfully calm, frightfully stormy. But despite these daily changes, I understand the beach. The beach is my refuge; it is where I go where I take my mind, my body, my spirit.
I believe the beach…is mine.
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