Posted in "Daily" pages

Letting grow

January 8, 2010 - 1:16 am

Ok, so this is more daily page like.  I’m just sitting here, in bed  I thought about skipping writing today, but decided that was silly.  I can write.  It will help settle my mind from the busy gossip of the knitting circle I have come home from. I slept so well last night, after spinning and then writing.  It would be silly not to build on that success.  🙂

I’ve got some vague thoughts about things I want to write, but nothing has coalesced into a concrete enough form for me to write it out.  I have a post in mind about memories and reflections, but that’s going to wait until I can write it with more attention than I have right now.  It may even be a series of posts, with photos.  But not now.

I went sailing last weekend.  There wasn’t much wind, but it was still an important moment for me, to be out on the water and pushed by the wind again.  I spent so much of my childhood on and around boats and the ocean.  I am not someone who can really answer the question, “Where’s your home town?”  As an adult, I have claimed Rehoboth Beach Delaware.  I spent substantial parts of my childhood summers there, and it’s the one place I reliably returned to every year.  I loved walking the beach, and working on my uncle’s boat, and sailing.

For several summers I took the trip up from Ft Lauderdale to Rehoboth with my uncle.  The best of those trips, we traveled “outside,” which means we headed out into the open ocean rather than hugging the coast or motoring up the intercoastal waterway.  I always took the graveyard shift at watch, lying on the cockpit cushions looking up at the stars, with meteors and satellites passing by.

As I lie here, I can remember the feel of the boat, heeled over and bucking on the ocean swell.  It seemed like there was a rhythm to the waves, but not one you could ever anticipate.  Out on the ocean, the waves don’t line up the way they do when they reach the shore.  There are waves from the current, and waves from the wind.  There is the deep swell that carries across from east to west, and then there’s the shore reflection of that swell bouncing back.  Each set of waves has its own direction, period, and strength.  They interact like crossing ripples in a pond, not with long troughs and ridges, but with dips and rises that build suddenly and fall away unexpectedly.

I used to like letting the ocean breathe for me.  Lying still, on my back, with my diaphragm relaxed, letting the bucks and dips push the air out of my lungs and pull it back in.  Giving myself to the ocean, trusting that down would come up again, and up would go down again, and I would breathe out as much as I breathed in, and that breath would be enough to sustain me.  I can remember few moments when I’ve been as much at peace as I was in those times, lying under the stars.

I am actively courting that inner peace these days.  finding the things that carry me in that direction, and savoring them.  I’ve never sustained a sitting practice for very long; I prefer my meditation a bit more active.  Yoga gets me there, but I’ve not been feeling it lately.  I don’t think I’ve done more than a few poses since I moved to this house.  Spinning is getting me to that place.  Gardening does, sometimes.  I’ve been digging up nature sound recordings, and they are also helping me let go of the past and future, and rest with the present. There is a moment when I make a fresh cup of tea, and inhale deeply.  A quiet comfort that comes from petting a cat.

I have weathered so much change in the past year.  This, now, is a time for being still.  I need to root into my new life.  I am gently shaping myself, but mostly I’m just letting go.  I’ve found a good place.  I’m finding good people.  I don’t feel a sense of hurry, or a need to drive to any goal.  This is a time for resting, and recovering.  A time for being, not doing.

Ok.  Now it is really time for sleeping.  Good night.

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