Thinking. Centering. Redefining.

A lot can happen to a person, while sitting at the edge of the ocean and being allowed to just think.  There is something about being there, with the tide, the sand, the ebb and flow, the pulling of fine grit beneath one's feet, as water blankets the tops.  The sound, the feeling, the taste, the smell.  It is sensory overload in the most primitive way.  I suspect it is much like the womb because sitting at the edge of the ocean, I feel utterly relaxed, pensive, grateful, and relevant.  So small, and so big, all at once.  My heart fills, and then is broken as I sit next to this impressive meeting of land and water.

I saw the ocean for the first time when I was almost 15.  I was taken to Wilmington, NC (Kure Beach) by my neighbor and mentor, Kathy.  I babysat and she rescued me from tyranny, over and again.  Since that first time, until now, my experience is always deeply personal and profound.

This time though, it was more.  I did not know it until I sat down in the shade, at the edge of the ocean, but I needed a good talk with my mother the earth.

I have felt beaten down.  

I have felt that good -v- bad just does not matter.

I have questions

I have few answers.

I feel irrelevant

And alone...

... while I have feared alone and irrelevant, so I tried all I knew to prevent it.

I sat, poured out my heart in plaintive agony and listened.

There were no words.

Only feelings.

You matter.

You are so tiny

and so giant.

You can feel

You can smell

You can touch

You can taste

You can hear.

You birthed that beautiful soul and that one too

You rescued that tall boy from his tall father when he was not tall

You matter.

No, Crystal

You MATTER

And so it was, but I felt like I just might melt, or rather... I wish I would just melt, like the castle we had built, once water was poured over it.  I wanted to melt.  Return to the earth, cycle into single base pairs.

I came home stronger and weaker.

Better and worse.

Waiting and impatient.

Wednesday, I flew to Atlanta with my friend Tracy.  We had been accepted to a special workshop. I have never heard of this type of workshop before and I had my typical self-doubt and worries.  

Am I __________ enough?

I dont want there to be free time, because I do not want to have to talk with other people.

It was glorious.  I talked, I made lots of friends with easy conversation.

I felt alive.

Smart.

Relevant.

I felt like I was made to be a scientist in a way I have not felt like in years.

I am so grateful for my time at the edge of the ocean.

My questions.

My education.

My gifts of inquiry and desire to answer questions.

This will be my light at the end of the tunnel for now.  It is enough to get up and keep going.  

You must be willing to get rid of the life you planned to live the life you are destined for. 
~~Joseph Campbell