The Tide

Yesterday I was walking in the ocean. The chilly temperatures kept me from getting any further than up to my thighs. I realized how much I love the raw power and unpredictability of the ocean, but how much I absolutely hate the beach. The beach is full of people. That in itself is an issue for me. As much of a social butterfly as I appear to be, I don't like people. I am fearful of them and their judgments. Since the weather was cool, the beach was scarce and I was pleased.

As I stood in the water, I watched the ocean. Each time I thought I knew what it was going to do, it simply didn't. I tried to square myself up where the small waves would break, however that was ever changing. I spent a considerable amount of time 'feeling' the ocean. Since I was only up to my thighs I was able to feel the pull of the water as it receded back into the vast ocean. I like that feeling. That push and pull.

As I was walking back toward the beach with numb thighs, I couldn't help but see an inspiration for writing in the moment. As I approached the beach, the water, behind me, passed me. Each step I took was matched with the ocean filling in the space I was trying to emerge from. As I took a step toward shallower water, it seemed the water came in and kept me in its depths. The beach looked so close, but ended up feeling so far away. I felt as though I was covering very little ground.

I began to relate to the water. I found a connection with it. The tide, so very much like me. A constant battle to achieve something, only to be sucked back to where you came from. The walk, so familiar. Trying to get somewhere only to have the same things fill your space. Distance defying logic. Changing a little differently each time I take a step.

I don't know what my goal is, perhaps it is the same as the ocean. Just keep trying. Trying to get to somewhere you weren't one small wave ago.