This week, I stole away to the NC shores to try to take some time to regroup and get my squirrels lined up and behaving. What was I thinking? It’s was going to take a lot longer than two days to do that. I think I was only able to catch one.
The first day was rainy, so I couldn’t get out on the beach, but yesterday was sunny and in the sixties. So after spending most of the day on one project, I got outside as the sun was starting to go down to walk the shoreline that was calling to me. I was amazed at all the shells and sea rocks that covered the sand as I walked along. I reached down and picked up a smooth white rock and turned it over in my hand.
It felt soothing, solid, and strong.
And I wondered how long it had taken to get to that point. How long had it been beat down by waves, crashing into other rocks and shells, to yield the beautiful and calming state that was its present form?
I walked along and found pieces of shell that had beautiful colors peeping out of them, and they too had become smooth to the touch. I looked up and out to the water. I watched as the waves crested and came crashing down with a beautiful sea spray following a few seconds later.
The ocean, the place I go to, to feel peace, to get grounded, really is big and wild.
And not safe.
Yet…In its wild, over time, it takes the broken and yields beauty.
Beauty that encourages me.
