There’s something about the sound of the waves crashing on your toes; or the inviting wet sand that forms around your thoughts.
I don’t know, each time I travel, and know that a beach is on sight, I try my best to visit, to feel and to experience it.
Actually, it’s the ocean, the water itself that draws me to it.
There is a certain kind of people that go to the ocean, not the ones that swim or play with water gadgets or whatever they’re called; the kind that will give up rolling their jeans because who cares, they usually either hold their shoes as they walk or simply sit as they watch their kids roam off.
Yea, that’s the people I like.
Maybe it’s the immensity of the ocean; the uncertainty, the peace that comes with not knowing, for a human such as myself, whose electrical mind never stops for tea. At least, by the water, my mind is allowed to wonder.
There is also an analogy of some sort, that made itself known to me in a dream, perhaps, or even reality, can’t distinguish. Can you imagine the sand as the lucid mind, and the water as the subconscious?
As I cement my fatigue in the conveniently warm sand, I remain still, with movement coming only from the ocean itself, patting my feet little by little, a slow and soft-toned mantra reminding me that serenity is a virtue.
And lastly, the much awaited epiphany, reminder of self-awareness, and pure contemplation of one’s existence in this abundant world, otherwise busy, but nevertheless beautiful.
A marriage of blues, both in water and in sky, and an horizon blurred, calm and confident. With it, the certainly that life’s uncertainties are no cause for worries.