Weight and Color

Hello Dear Ones,

Spring is here, pulling her tides farther and deeper than her predecessor. I'm spending more and more time at my beloved little beach. Wandering, searching, staring off in the distance. It hasn't been an easy year so far, but the older I get, the more I recognize that "easy year" is a fantasy. There will simply always be some amount of struggle, loss, and illness to trouble the waters. It isn't wise to hold too fast to peace. Better to let her come and go, come and go, like those glorious spring tides.

Recently, on one of my wanderings, I found a lead fishing weight buried in the mud.

It was easy to be reminded of the worry and grief this object might represent. The weight of things. The solidity of reality. And yet, it wasn't a burden. There was something satisfying about its heft in my hand, and its smooth, spherical shape, as if to say "I know what I am".

Soon thereafter, on another overcast day, I found two extraordinarily beautiful shells. One, a common oyster shell -- though this particular shell didn't seem common at all. It struck me as one of the most exquisite examples of its species I've ever found. Pearlescent and ruffled in just the right ways.

And then, not much farther down the beach, I found a piece of abalone. At least, what I think is abalone. I don't know enough about shells to say whether this is a piece of our local species (pinto abalone), or some other species that arrived here by way of human hands or natural forces, but I know it took my breath away. Pinto abalone were harvested nearly to the point of extinction some years ago and have only recently begun to recover, thanks to the efforts of local conservationists. I've never found anything like this shell before. Not in this part of the world. Its colors speak for themselves.

If that fishing weight symbolizes the heaviness and reality of this life, then these shells surely symbolize something more ethereal and divine. They speak to me of beauty, mystery, and the poetic powers of nature. They remind me that there's so much serenity and color beyond our little lives. 

My personal religious views are both Buddhist and Pagan. I don't attend church or temple. I generally don't pray. I read, I walk the beach, I light candles. I try, in simple ways, to connect with the wisdom and learning offered by myriad religions, philosophers, and thinkers throughout time. When I feel restless and wild, furious or despairing, I go outside. 

I'm deeply grateful to live in a place that continually offers me the views and surprises my soul craves.

Friends, the truth is I haven't been writing lately. I've been too frustrated and afraid. But I'm finding my way back. One seaside treasure at a time.

Love to you all. Always.