Back in the days when I lived a block away from the Pacific Ocean, I used to love body surfing.
Jumping up right before the wave hit me and then allowing the wave take me away. Floating on top of yet within the wave. It gave me a fabulous feeling of freedom. A lightness of being.
The warm sunshine, the warm, clear, salty water, the ripple-like sandy bottom of the ocean floor.
Magic and complete joy.
Peace.
At this point in my life, I'm body surfing the tumultuous waves of events in my life.
Yesterday I was slammed into the sand by a harsh wave of the realities of my job.
OUCH.
Wave after wave of "constructive criticism" crushed me, leaving me with a mouth, nose, and a face full of gritty, scratchy, painful sand. Ears clogged by water and gunk.
More waves consisting of flotsam and jetsam crashed over me.
From the north, south, east, and west of me, came the waves.
Unrelenting.
I cannot elaborate.
I will continue to surf.
I have no intentions of drowning or getting feasted upon by predators.
I refuse to sink beneath the surface to join certain factions.
My mouth will remain closed so the water and sand don't choke me.
Body surfing.
Not as much fun but still doable.
3 comments:
I am so sorry to hear of this criticism. I have followed you long enough to know how conscientious you are, and I would be proud to have you as my nurse.
My first glimpse of the Pacific was in 1975 or so. We had driven 2,000 miles through the heat, and I had looked forward to a good swim that whole way. Imagine my shock when we finally hit the coast at Santa Barbara, and the water was too cold to get into. I hadn't even imagined such a prospect.
Thanks Snowy!! I appreciate your support and faith in me.
If you thought it was cold in Santa Barbara's waters~that must have been long before you tried the Pacific of the Northwest. Talk about cold!!!!
It was ten years before I visited Oregon. The difference was that I thought of California as a beach paradise, so I had no idea that most of the coastal waters are on the chilly side. Likewise, when I first visited the Rockies in August, I nearly froze my butt off. In my mind, it was AUGUST, a month that is supposed to hot.
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