Recently I have recounted my younger days, remembering my time as a young child at summer camp as I sat at the water’s edge, my bare feet buried in the sand. I am reminded of the wild and gentle dance of life. The one I’ve been privileged to watch unfold. I am no stranger to eddies and tides, hurricanes, and cyclones. From the peaceful lapping of the low ebb tide to the raucous celebration of a high tide under a full moon, I’ve seen it all. Both up close and from a distance. And yet, all my life I was always drawn to the water; the ocean, it seems, is my blanket.
My earliest memories are imprinted with the rhythm of the water. As a girl, I’d sit for hours, tracing the patterns of eddies in the sand with my tiny fingers. Even then, I understood there was something profound in those swirling whirlpools. They appeared, stayed for a while, dancing in their delicate, carefree manner, and then vanished, swallowed by the relentless tide.
In these patterns, I first learned about impermanence. Nothing, however beautiful or compelling, lasts forever. Eddies form and disappear, relationships blossom and wilt, dreams are born and sometimes, despite ones best intentions and care, sometimes they die too. It is all a part of life; harmony is found only when one chooses to flow with it, not fight against it.
As I grew there came hurricanes and cyclones. These natural phenomena stirred both fear and fascination within me. Their ferocious power, their unapologetic display of nature’s might. Yet remarkably amidst the chaos, there is a strangely captivating order, a purpose. The cyclones of my life have been no different. They’ve come in many forms—losses, failures, heartbreaks. In their wake, they’ve left a trail of pain but also, oddly enough, growth and opportunity.
Experiencing the high tides and full moons of my life has been equally transformative. Those moments when the ocean swells, dancing to the silvery tunes of the lunar orchestra—it is a sight of such enchanting beauty that it takes my breath away every single time. These moments echo the peak points in my journey, the accomplishments, the love-filled laughter, and the joys that make my heart overflow.
I’ve come to embrace the low ebb tides, as well, even though they may bring a sense of emptiness, a certain stillness that borders on melancholy. It’s during these moments that the ocean floor is revealed and her secrets are exposed. The low points in our lives are much like these low tides; it’s in the bare openness of our vulnerabilities, we find our true selves, our core.
Looking out at the vast expanse of water, I feel a sense of profound gratitude. I am a part of this magnificent, messy, beautiful experience known as life. The eddies and tides, hurricanes and cyclones, the low ebb tide and high, the full moon—they are all part of my existence, my narrative, and my journey. And as I watch the sun setting, casting red and orange hues across the shimmering waters, I know I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Each of us are subjected to the whims of internal, and external forces. Yet, it is within our own resilience and determination where we find our rhythm, our purpose, and our desire. We learn, grow, love, hurt, heal, and transform. Through every high tide and low, under each full moon and in every storm, we become who we are.
As the whispers of the ocean breeze play with my hair, I make a silent promise to never forget the lessons that the waves have taught me. With every ebb, I will embrace the empty spaces, using them as a canvas to paint new possibilities. With every flow, I will ride the waves, and rejoice in the abundance of life. Through hurricanes and cyclones, I will find strength in chaos and rebuild with grace. And under the full moon’s radiant glow, I will dance to the rhythm of the tides, my heart in sync with the boundless, beautiful sea.
July 6, 2023
(Continued from July 5, 2023)
You’re such a beautiful writer—this is so evocative and inspiring!
Wow, thank you so much, Suzanne! This means a lot to me, especially coming from you!