reminders

Posted by on Oct 20, 2012 in Blog | Comments Off on reminders

reminders

Soon, we are going back to the ocean.

I used to think I was afraid of it but I realize that what really terrifies me is that within the depths of darkness lies the limits of my knowledge.  I used to swell up with anxiety when I would watch nature documentaries and those baby sea turtles would make the journey across the beach and finally sail off into the ocean.  “Don’t go!” I would think from the edge of my seat, but of course their dangers were magnified on the sand.  Gulls are their biggest predator, picking them off as they rush to the water’s edge, but to me those babies were better off in the light.  To me, they were swimming to darkness.  To vastness.  To solitude.

This is what sends the deepest shivers down my spine and also makes me yearn to sit in its presence.  The ocean terrifies and humbles me, but it also energizes me, making me feel as if  the times when I’m not near the vast waters I’m as good as sleeping.  I feel this too in the shadows of the tallest mountains, surrounded by peaks of rock that threaten to tumble.  Both have such power and magic and elemental energy that one can’t help but feel overwhelmed.  It’s a brilliant perspective gifted by nature to whomever is lucky enough to be near.  It’s the next best thing to space travel, I think.  If you can’t get to the stars try to visit the mountains.  Sit by the shore.

I’m never left with that cliched feeling of being so small, that my life and problems are unimportant.  What is imparted is a sense that despite my sometimes feeling alone and apart, everything is connected.  Looking out to the infinite horizon and listening to the crash of waves, I can feel my place in the order of things.  I take in a deep breath as I stand there, a moment of making room for the heart which I can feel expanding in this knowledge.  It’s there, it’s there.  Then we get in the car and it’s gone.  But I remember it.  And when I can, I go back to it, for it.

 

 

 

All content by Lisa Veronese. Please do not publish or copy my material without my consent.