The Place of Awakening

The unmistakable salty-dried-sea-weed-coconut-SPF30-lotion-Subway-sandwich tingling my nostrils reminds me to do something I so often forget:

Inhale.

Exhale!

And, then, again:

In-haaaa-le.

Ex-haaaa-le.

This forgotten breathing-thingie reminds me there is more to me - more inside me - than meets the eye. There is this breath inside me, but most of my life I live holding it back really tight.

I am near.  I can smell it. But I still can’t see it.

The wind is messing with my hair and whispering into my ear. Through its sound, like a layered symphony - the screeching seagulls and inarticulate noises people on the beach make – I can distinguish a steady rhythmic low-rumble – wave in, wave out.

I can hear the ocean breathe.

Wave in.

Wave out!

Already there is a dialogue and neither one of us has said a single word!

I can smell him.  

I can hear him.  

But I still can’t see him.

The sand is already swamping my flip-flops clad toes.  I know it's just over the sand-dune and across the bridge …

There you are! I light up. I see you!

And there YOU are, roars the ocean, always happy to see me. I see YOU too!

I run and trip, the dry sand heaving under my feet until the sand turns soggy and I reach the very edge.  

Like the edge of a lavish robe.  

I can smell him.

I can hear him roar.

I can see him.  

Pregnant with incessant motion and rest. Dark and glistening silver and white. The deep calling.

The wind intensifies, enveloping us both.

I linger on the edge, waiting for him to make the first move.  I don’t need to wait long. 

Now, I can feel him tickling my toes.

I jump, backing off.

You are too cold!

And you are too silly, laughs the ocean because little children are splashing and giggling and screaming all around me. 

C'mmon, let's play!, he calls.

No, not today. I say.  Today I need to stay in the shallows.  

Whatever you wish my dear...