Wednesday, November 30, 2016
There's no way of knowing if they will leave you refreshed and looking forward to the next wave or if they will take parts of your heart, your soul, or perhaps your will, with them as they recede to build strength for the next bombardment of clear water, white caps, and bit and pieces of sand mixed with other debris from the depths from which they've been pulled.
There are days the thoughts are calm, the ebb and flow are tolerable, sometimes quite relaxing. Other times they may very well be much more than expected, taking more than they give. It's during those times nothing can be experienced but the exhaustion of attempting to stay afloat and keep the irritants, and scary creatures that have been wrenched from their hidden places, at a distance that leaves room for breathing.
Examination of the thoughts during those times is nothing that is possible for those are the times survival is key. As with the waves thoughts never cease converging, one after another. It's only the intensity that changes.
The day could be sunny and bright and still bring a force of its own, that if not carefully navigated, will pull you into the dark depths of the ocean to fight even more fiercely for your life. Those are the times to walk away from the shore and into the safety of shady solitude, for if not recovery may not be possible.
I wonder, at times, if that's why I'm so drawn to the ocean. It's depth, mystery, power, and beauty mirror the happenings within my soul. There's nothing more exhilarating than surfing atop a forceful wave using your skill and determination to conquer the mighty force and win a battle with something much more powerful, something that has the capacity to whisk me away in an instant to certain death.
At the same time there's nothing more unnerving than having no fear of the force that, if you allow it, holds your life, or death, in its grip, allowing it to toss you with its force along with bits of sand, rock, and other unknown dangers.