Wednesday, 27 February 2013
Same footprints, different person.
I had a melancholy night with little sleep. I got up at 7am, sorted everything out for my son to get off to school then, as I had the morning free, I decided to get out into the winter sun and not allow the waves of sadness to engulf me.
When I arrived at the beach the sky was a brilliant blue, the sun so, so bright and low in the sky everything glittered and shone at me as if screaming, "SMILE damn it! Look at all this shiny loveliness..SMILE!"
Instead I breathed, I walked, I took photos, I breathed and I took in all that was beautiful around me. And that was not in short supply. The curlew's were doing their call, running about the beach trying to scare me off. The sea was gently, almost politely rolling in, tip toeing it's way over rocks and glittery sand. I didn't smile but I could really feel a deep appreciation for all that I was witnessing. A cormorant stood majestically facing me, perched on a rock,wings out basking in the sun, it's back to the sun - I'm pretty sure it was smiling. I walked, and walked. One man and his dog stopped to speak. The little dog rolled onto it's back, smiling and pleading with me to stroke it, which I did. The man smiled too and said, "I come down here every day - and it's always quiet, empty most mornings - folk around here don't appreciate what's right on their doorstep!"
We chatted for a few minutes and I headed back.
About half way I noticed the footprints I had left in the sand as I'd headed out on the walk. I stopped, I took a photo of them - and I smiled.
What had happened to that pensive woman? I know what happened. Nature had worked it's magic, as it always can with me. It took me out of my own repetitive, catastrophising headmind and brought me back into alignment with all that is around each and every one of us. Our beautiful natural world.
A friend of mine gave me this quote, Ian, thank you so much for sharing it with me. When I say it to myself I feel a tremendous peacefulness. I hope, in your sadder, more difficult moments it does the same for you. x
"All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well." Mother Julian of Norwich.