The ocean is a place where I can go, where I realize how insignificant I am in the whole scheme of things. The power of the waves crashing on the rocks, the breeze that comes whipping the sand in my face, the majestic never ending sunrise and sunsets along the horizon.
I find peace at the ocean though, whether it is calm or forceful, there is peace in the waves slapping along the shore.
As a child, I grew up in Bridgeport Conn, and I can remember being brought down to the ocean often. We would bring pails and a sifter. We would play in the sand, building sand castles and sifting handfuls of sand looking for that special shell. The waves would come and splash and our sand castle would erode, would tumble.
I was 4 1/2 when we moved from there, but we would return a few times after. It was an colonial early American town when I lived there, I went back as an adult and it's characteristics had changed. It seemed more run down, more unsettling.
I have gone to the ocean in Virginia, in Maine , on the cape, and in Massachusetts. No matter where I have gone, I find the solitude of the water, the insignificance of me, and time seems to stop there. I get swallowed up in the wonder, as the water goes on forever, and I realize I am just a drop of water in the sea of life. It shapes me up, it puts me down to where I need to think, meditate, pray and be thankful. It helps my mental health, as I feel my mind emptying all the ugliness and soaking in pure. I hope each of you have a special part of the world that can be an escape. Love, Cindy