My Gift From the Sea
Today it is the music that I notice most. The repetitive, almost echoing chords answering each other as one wave and then another reaches the shore. It is a symphony that never rests yet the more I listen the more rested I become. There are other sounds, too, like those of the seagulls announcing a dropped cracker or a lunch bag left open, their voices like squeals of delight. Look, a treasure". That’s what I imagine they are calling out. "Look, look."

Children are laughing, too. Without even opening my eyes I can hear their smiles. "I’m going to run in now," one child promises another. "Me too", the other yells back, into a sea-scented breeze that carries the laughter beyond me. "Look at my castle", another child announces proudly. "That’s amazing, sweetie", answers a light-hearted mother.

I am conscious of the song of the sea, the scented air, the heat of the sun on my skin and laughter that hints of a joy that others, too, feel here.

Suddenly the unfinished projects left on my desk at work along with unmet deadlines seem as meaningless as my fretting over what to wear last week or what I’d talk about at the dinner party.

Today I’ve reconnected with a joyful simplicity I want to hold on to. It’s as if the waves have changed me, softened me, like they did to the piece of sea glass that washed up onto shore near my foot this morning - my gift from the sea.

"The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, too impatient. To dig for treasures shows not only impatience and greed, but lack of faith. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should be empty, open, choiceless as a beach - waiting for a gift from the sea." -- Anne Morrow Lindberg, Gift From the Sea