journal-08/13/00

08/13/00

(Ocean,
from my bench in Kennebunkport, Maine)

If I could just stand on that small boulder rising out of the murky green depths of my ocean below, the tide water would drown me within a few waves.

Or maybe I'd just feel better,
cleansed by the salty water filtering its way into crevices around rocks and into tiny valleys carved over thousands of years...

This water is mine. This place is mine. Anyone else who dares enter here senses it and moves quickly on.
These are my waves.

These are my thoughts.

My hope is renewed by the calming waters, but not entirely-- it's really barely enough to keep me functioning, barely enough to keep me alive.

And I am alive.

Today, I have laughed, I have been angry and frustrated, I have been content, anxious, and somber. I have been calm and sleepy, and I have been happy in some of the many moments I have lived through today.

I have been calmed...

The low murmur of waves smashing harshly into the rocky shore caresses the very same boulders as it retreats into its collective sanctuary...

I respect this water--
its essential part of supporting life within it
as well as all life on this planet,
and here I stare at my tiny piece of it,
in awe.

I need this place--
always.
I need to know that I can always come here for my dose of sanity--
reality.

This place is in my heart forever.
The only way to feel comfort from this fact is to be here.
And I leave a part of me here
each time I depart--
a broken part of me that needs healing,
can only heal away from me,
away from the places I exist every day,
and I retrieve that once-broken,
now-healed part
the next time I return.

Last time I was here
I was still feeling pain from a relationship that had
ended months before.
I left a part of that here,
and now I'm back--
the pain is gone.

Now, I leave my confusion.
Now, I leave my (again) broken heart--
let the ocean waters wash over me,
sweep me away,
cleanse my soul.

Now, I leave bitterness behind.

Now, I leave my wounded soul--
and I perch these bundled broken pieces
(like shattered dinner dishes)
noisily on the edge of a boulder lodged
deep within the sea,
guarded by a sea gull--
these feelings I have will grow lonely
without me here to feed their chaos,
and slowly, over time,
until the next time I arrive,
they will dissipate and fade and be smothered
and engrained into the thick, soft and slippery moss
that makes the rocks impossible
to gain foothold.

Even now, I feel more acceptance
of the ways life has jostled me around
than any other feeling--
moving on and swallowing my woes are the
steps pervasive in my mind at the time,
and although I know time is the only way to really heal,

I know my acceptance is the first step
in this much-traversed journey.

(Droplets of rain battle the sunshine,
clouds hide the sky in a dull shroud--
the smell of the big splattering drops
mixes with the salt of the ocean,
making me long to be here
forever.

Perhaps I will be...)

Heal me, strong waters,
show me your strength
by being the mirror to mine--
show me your determination and persistence,
show me all of your best qualities
because they are mine, too.

I go in peace,
I go, washed clean of my pain,
I go, ready to take on more of my own and
others' miseries,
I go, my face smiling--
I go, my head held high,

I go--
knowing that I never really leave...