Quietly, I sit on the sand, and watch as the earth turns toward the edge of the eastern horizon, and paints the sky in shades of pink and salmon. The shoreline glistens, replete with wind waves from the evening blow, and the dancing antics of pelicans as they dive for bait fish.

I realize this is a refuge, this morning ritual I’ve created of sitting next to the sea. It is here I let my mind clear the clutter of worry and the weight of the assault on much of what i hold dear. I realize that I am blessed in my ability to retreat to this seashore, and I never take it for granted. What I have learned in my own life, is that to the ocean I return, for solace, for healing, for a reset.

I lean back on Mary Oliver, a poet who has been lodged in my heart since my first reading of her work.

She writes:

I share Mary Oliver’s trust in the watery world that encases the planet. The ocean actually unites the shores of all the continents and connects us together.

I don’t understand the world right now. I don’t understand hate, or demonizing those of different color or race or opportunity. I don’t understand the spewing of lies repeated until somehow they become some alter truth. I don’t understand where critical thinking fell off the cliff, like watching a horrific accident in slow motion. Special interests and those with the most money are tearing us apart.

I don’t understand lack of empathy or a misunderstanding of all that is human. I don’t understand those who choose not to see that working together – this misshapen ungainly world of disparate parts and regions and cultures – we can be so much more, gain so much more, make all of our lives so much better.

It is my hope, that you, too, can find that space where for a moment, you can take a breath, let your shoulders slip down and root yourself in your own best essence. Hold on to what you love. It is the best antidote to toxins and hate.