Friday, January 6, 2012
Contemplations on a Beach Vacation
I'm going to the Beach Sunday. My soul is already there. I've already slowed my senses down to take in the vast nothingness of the waves and water and sand and sky. I want to take my camera and paints and pads and pens and I don't want to take anything. I want hours of nothingness, staring into the repetitive roll of wave after wave assuring me that my life is not my own - I came from the stars and will return there. Meanwhile I have choice and love and patience to explore. I have my senses to show me the creativity of the Universe. I hesitate to mention God, but I believe in God. I believe in a God who is my best friend, my closest confident, my greatest comfort, my biggest cheerleader, my adviser and quiet witness to all that I do and all that I am. He is the parent I've longed for and have always had within me. Even as a child, I felt cradled by his presence, never alone and scared - alone and anxious, unsure what to do or how to handle a given situation, but solidly knowing I am not alone. When I listen, God is immediately there for me, telling me what I need to know or what to do next. I draw my inspiration from listening to God. I follow leadings from God and, on perfect days, I allow myself to open up to God's creativity and channel that. My best art comes directly from God. My desire to change women's body consciousness comes from God. My blessings come from God. And I also believe my challenges come from God, giving me opportunities to love more deeply and with greater awareness of the frailty of our humanity.
I often wish I cold overcome my humanity and embody more God-like qualities. I wish I had an open door forgiveness policy. I wish I could immediately glean the lessons being offered in challenging situations. I wish my heart were as big as God's. I wish I could incorporate God-consciousness into everything I do, say, think or feel.
That is why I am going to the beach on Sunday - to be a hermit, away from the pulls of my human life, to a place where I can more easily focus on what really matters to me. I want to drop everything and become conscious of my breath, of the pull of my eyelids towards sleep, of the yearnings of my body for specific nutrients, of my soul for the roar of the ocean, the moon rising over the water, the crash of the surf as it and I play tag, me screeching as it gets me, it roaring in fake scariness as it plunges towards me then just as quickly pulls away.
I breathe deeply, settling into the slow goodness of it all.