My daughter and I have found that when life seems to be a struggle the beach can go a long ways toward fixing it. Rituals, too, have a way of putting cares at rest. Put the two together and Viola’ magic.
Last week daughter and I drove to the beach. The closest to
us is about an hour’s drive away in Florence Oregon. Often whatever the weather
is here, it will be the opposite over there, so we didn’t concern ourselves
with the weather, we were going no matter what. True to form it rained in the
coast range, but popping out the other side brought us into a perfect day,
sunny and warm.
We wrote affirmations on the soft wet compacted sand.
We were in a sheltered cove, where the tide was out, and a little water,
perfect for wading, sat behind the
breakwater, a dam of boulders the size of small cars. We knew when the tide
rolled in and back out it would take our words and concerns and wash them into the sea, the great cleansing system that is that purveyor of life.
Little Boy
Darling ankle high in ice water, pushing bare toes into soft said, “This is the
best day ever.”
We were alone until a man and his dog entered the beach
about a quarter mile away. There the man threw a ball for the dog over and
over, and you know about dogs and balls, more is never enough.
Presently a little lady, all bundled up, sauntered
slowly toward us. She stopped and
offered a bite of apple to Peaches. Some
dogs like fruit, but definitely not Peaches. “Lips that touch apples will
never…” Well, you get the drift.
The lady was wearing a cannula, with a plastic tube
running from beneath her nose to her back where she wore a back pack carrying a
small oxygen tank. She said good bye and left. Later on I saw her making her
way in the opposite direction. I commented “Wow, you do good.” She said on
days when the tide is out she makes four trips down this long expanse of
beach.
I watched as she slowly moved away doing her laps, and
I stood there chiding myself for not running after her and asking if she would
tell me her story. Would she have done
it? And what might her story be? She carried
the experience of years. She appeared upbeat in spite of her limitations. She
could breathe. She was making good use
of it.
That night I read a little of Jack Canfield’s book, The Success Principles. He said that when
he and Mark Hansen were contemplating their book Chicken Soup for the Soul, they realized there was an untapped
market for upbeat, uplifting stories.
And the media thinks “If it bleeds it leads.” Imagine.
Do you have an upbeat story? A happy story?
Send it to me. I will print it here.
We could continue Canfield’s movement.
A kiss for showing up.
