Life's a Beach

I'm walking to the beach, and I'm spontaneously 'pulled' to the boardwalk, which is 30 feet away. It feels as if I am a puppet with someone invisible above me pulling the strings. I love when this happens, and my only job is to shut the mind down, and open the heart. Let go and let God, as they say. I'm reminded of that line in Bull Durham where Crash Davis(Kevin Costner) yells at Nuke Laloosh(Tim Robbins), "Don't think Meat, just pitch!".

Rain is falling lightly, and I am enjoying the freshness of the sprinkles on my neck. There are six people sitting where I'm intuiting that I'd like to sit and write, and before I can come up with a Plan B in my mind, they magically get up and walk the other way. I take my seat, and have to shield my notebook from the rain, which is blowing north to south toward the ocean. The wind drops the temperature into the 50s, and suddenly, it takes a bit more grace to be happy it is raining down.

I am in the center of the boardwalk. I am at MY center. I am in the place the Buddhists call 'the witness', watching life unfold. Due to the weather, the ocean is left to its own devices, save for two 16 year-olds in the water, arms around one another, and kissing in a way that is that 1st puppy love. They are oblivious to everything and completely in the moment. The feeling of time stopping, with nary a worry in the world, except for maybe the prospect of what to do with a 3-inch hickey on the back of one's neck. The memory of my first real kiss enters my awareness. The hometown ski area, 12 friends egging me on, and a chair lift ride with a girl named Karen. It's a 'sure thing', all I have to do is let it happen, and yet there's still the pubescent nervous anticipation. The metaphor for this stage of the chrysallis, or development, that is my writing, is quite loud.

The writing is in my home "field". It is everything I already am, and everything I already know, consciously or not. I have many, many people supporting me, and about 12 people actively taking an interest in my writing. I've seen and felt all the signs that tell me it is a "sure thing", and I don't intrepret that to mean New York Times bestseller. I simply know it is a "sure thing" in terms of my growth as a human being, my transformation as a person, and that possibly one other person will be inspired to write a book that will change the world forever. There is still a bit of trepidation.

All I have to do is get on the chair lift. Sit in stillness and be raised up in vibration.

The rhythymic melody of the ocean wave breaking onto shore brings me deeper into what one might call an awakened trance. I am sitting with my legs crossed, and my body is taking a nap as my mind is completely alert. I am in that oxymoronic space of thinking with my heart and feeling with my mind. A place where one can take an artistic view of science and a scientific viewpoint of all things art.

I see the auras of the trees over the rocky neck that extends into the ocean. They provide ample light on what otherwise would be considered by many to be a dark, dreary, overcast day.

I randomly think of spiders, and within 5 seconds, almost on queue, a woman 6 feet away asks her 3 yr-old son, "do you want to play with Spiderman?". I acknowledge with gratitude the new web of life that is my writing and make a mental note to research further what the Native American take on spider medicine(spider signs/wisdom) is.

For the first time of this vacation week, I turn my head to the big, circular clock that is perched on a pole at the end of the boardwalk. It is 1:11 pm. I giggle to myself. The Oneness. Everything really is one right now. I realize this week is the first time ever that I've truly written without my brutal inner editor. I'm not even really sure what I've written. I smile. It occurs to me right now I can write with my eyes not looking at the notebook, and even with my non-dominant hand. It's just coming through.

I can feel this moment in time, this awareness, this 'being', starting to fade. I decide to lock this moment, this essence, in for future reference, for those times when I am staring at the pen in my hand that seems separate from my brain. I close my eyes and imagine myself diving simultaneously into each individual cell in my body. I take 3 deep breaths, and tap my solar plexus 3 times. This is the 2nd chakra, or creative center. I am literally downloading this moment into cellular/muscle memory, through self-hypnosis. It has definitely made my short list of "happy places" that I can re-visit from a distance through meditation any time I feel stuck.

I ask for a sign to get up and go, 2 sea hawks fly across the previously empty sky, and I get chills up and down my arms. I realize how connected I am to the beach and the ocean and am immediately grateful. I realize how connected I am to everything, and laugh at myself for the fact that I almost didn't want to come and take this vacation break. I take a pinch of tobacco from my medicine bag, and say a prayer of gratitude in an offering to the beach.

Life's a beach.