Several hours today at my favorite beach, a slow walk zig-zagging along tiered, ice-laced sand, some time spent scanning the speckled-stone shore to find some gem-like beauties, and my eyes repeatedly returned to the distant horizon line. Where did the lake end and the sky begin?
Mist and monotoned hues in the gentlest brush strokes made it seem, at times, as if I was submerged under water and in the next breath, in a flicker I was airborne and sky-high, as if lifted by silken clouds. Today’s faraway view was all a blur, distinction between below and above blending together, a rare occurrence of seeing and an even more rare feeling of trusting my own senses for where I actually stood.
You see, sometimes, I absolutely need to see exact order and delineation from what is around me to ground me and remind me where I am, but today, somehow, I knew where I was without the usual necessary visual references. And oddly, the floating sensation like a helium ballon I experienced was tolerable, maybe it was the low waves pressing me in place and drowning-out my tinnitus in my ears, but it was definitely a feeling of peace and centeredness.
I want to hold on to these feelings and memories from today. Life at any moment can be a blur, and I want so much to bravely keep looking in the distance, and be okay with whatever is shown to me. ~Paula