Sitting by the water, early morning. The sun already 30° on the horizon. Pelicans float amidst gulls and a few cormorants. The dogs lie at my feet, waiting for their walk. Buster chews on a bone.
The wind already ruffles the water. It’s day three of a big blow. The other side is reportedly cold with the surf blown out. Guiliana, my Italian friend from SJ has hunkered down in Agua Verde, a pristine cove some 30 miles south of here down a treacherous canyon road. She camped on the beach to stay warm.
During the night, I listened to small wind-driven ways. As I listened, I thought about what we allow ourselves to hear. How we tune our receptors on and off. Sometimes for self-protection. Sometimes because the bulk of the input just seems like noise.
When i finally ‘land’ here, I slowly untangle city thoughts and replace them with wind/sea/sky. That self-hearing/self-healing begins to work its magic. I stop caring what time it is. Scheduling drops away.
I want to learn to be like this all the time – balanced in the core of my very being. Safe in my self.