Today I've got a little story for you,
Called the beauty of the sea,
A story told through poetry,
Told through me.
A few weeks ago I took myself to the end of a pier to meditate,
I was returning from a therapy session and was taking some time to recover,
To listen to the crash of the waves,
To feel the wind and the taste of the salt from the water's spray,
But as I sat embracing the internal silence of the moment,
A man approached,
Concern etched across his face,
As he asked me,
Are you okay,
And in that moment,
A poem came,
Endless,
Endless waves,
Endless water,
Endlessly raging against an ever-changing shore,
Endlessly hoping for a peaceful end,
Endlessly beginning again and again.
Then suddenly,
A splash of cold reality,
Green and white with a hint of blue,
Out of my mind and into the sea,
Physically wet but happy to be,
Nature showing endlessly more,
As endless waves crash against the endless shore.
The truth is,
That day,
I was okay,
But I haven't always been,
And I would like to share some of that journey with you.
For most of my life,
I've felt like there is a hole where my hole should be,
A product of a complex childhood,
That I've been forever trying to understand and express,
Can't quite express.
There are things I want to say,
But just can't quite express.
Ruminations and meditations that I'm too afraid to address,
Like the veil over my eyes that keeps me hidden from the stress,
To the dark wishes I'm fighting to suppress,
Like the fear and anxiety that I'll constantly transgress,
The past expressions that I'm never going to confess,
Like how everything I do causes me nothing but duress,
To the unwavering ache and torment that's causing me to regress.
I must profess a desire to express my stress,
Confess to address this abscess,
To obsess on happiness,
To aim for excess,
And to stop living like such a mess.
Yes,
I want to make progress,
But there are just some things I can't quite express.
Over the years,
I've had more therapy than anyone I know.
CBT,
DBT,
EMDR,
TMS,
Swallowing all of the acronyms,
Along with the medications that do the exact opposite of help.
I float.
The vastness of the ocean has been replaced by the safety of the kiddie pool.
I float under a lifeguard's watchful gaze,
Passively accepting the artificiality of my confines,
Only vaguely aware of a time not long ago when I could look upon the horizon and feel the sun upon my skin.
Memories of riding atop the waves,
Both terrified and exhilarated by nature's limitless beauty,
Have been replaced by the scent of chlorine penetrating my nose and irritating my eyes.
But I don't care.
I'm lulled by the warmth of the water,
And comforted by the knowledge that soon I will forget the taste of salt water and the thrill of that first plunge into the depth of the ocean's infinite embrace.
But three words given to me years ago have saved my life and continue to do so to this day.
Try everything first.
Try everything first,
And try I did.
More therapy,
More medication,
More commitment.
I chose to live.
I chose to heal.
I chose to reconnect with the parts I long refused to acknowledge or see.
Dear little part of me.
Dear little part of me,
You are safe and you are free.
I know for years I didn't see just how much you kept my safety.
You acted bravely.
You kept watch gravely,
Forced to wield the sword and the shield and the armor of a lady.
But I need you to know those times have now long passed.
We can breathe and break our fast.
We can live and love and laugh.
We can finally rest at last.
That it's safe for you to let go.
Safe to play and safe to be free.
It's safe for you to be you and me to be me.
I know for years I didn't see what you did for us,
What you did for me.
But I do now so you can release.
But I do now so we can walk together in peace.
I found myself thinking back to that man on the pier,
Wishing he'd asked me the question,
Are you okay?
Years ago,
Back when I needed it most.
Who knows what pain I could have been spared and what beauty I've missed.
I'm grateful for that man upon the pier.
Grateful for his kindness,
For his bravery and for his example.
The beauty of the sea.
I closed my eyes to the beauty of the sea,
Shielding the fragile part of my soul that still believed in the childish notion of an untainted moment.
As I walked away,
I couldn't help but hear the crash of the waves,
Nor could I ignore the subtle fragrance of echoed memories telling stories of countless days lost and found.
Of floating,
Of sun-drenched smiles,
Of laughter,
And of the salty tears of rebellion against a world that was forcing me to leave.
I am crying those same tears now,
This slow descent down my cheeks,
Mirroring a life spent running away from itself.
Too afraid to taste the saltiness of the water.
Too afraid to feel the sun or hear the waves.
And too afraid to cry tears of departure that I never allow myself to see the beauty of the sea that is in front of me.
May you and I both never fail to see the beauty of the sea.
