The meditation of the gentle shores during this mild winter

We take a moment to reflect.

Notice all there is.

If we can, eyes wide open.

How do the surroundings talk to us.

Take a deep breath in. Gentle and softly, let the air out.

The next round, take a new deep breath in. You can now feel in the belly and the chest expanding.

Gentle does it when we let the air out.

We can count, 1-5, 1-8, 1-10. Well done.

What was I witnessing with my eyes open?
There are these waves at first
I see them from afar crashing mildly the shore
I know I want to be nearby to continue this dream of a wavy dance together

My steps are alert,

Happy to know my direction,

I feel determined as I walk with purpose

The purpose to surrender.

There is a morning calling …. Present with me for couple of days now
A calling for the rays of the almighty Sun
A calling for the waves of the crashing Ocean
Very soft strokes

Soft waves that is

My steps take me where I wanted to be

all along, this week.

I envisioned the flower shop open earlier
I envisioned finding stunning flowers that I do not usually find
I envisioned finding soil to replant what has out grown
I envisioned all that makes me happy

And there they are

I find lilies of a deep purple colour - see for the very first time.
I find branches of red berries 
I find gladiolus- usually stems sought after at Chinese New Year.
I find soil.

The smiling flower lady waves her hand to me. We smile at each other.
I find it all and I smile even more so.

Leaving with a bunch of red and white jewels under my arm I wave good bye to the flower auntie.

This is a shop of treasures for me, right here, tucked away on this small street in the village, treasures which make me smile beyond my ears.

All my dreams come true.

I find it all.

I pick up the pace and the same determined steps follow my calling as if I have drawn a specific plan in my dream.

I am now one stick away from the ocean - Shoes off, socks off, scarf off - the winter here at the beach is a delight!

It is so mild that some might not even call it winter.

There is the solar bath unaltered by a perfect breeze. The perfect match.

I find the shores welcoming.

The sand is cold enough here to awake me in the morning.

I dig my soles in the water. Alright, yes a bit cold. But let’s play this little game for a while.

Was it cold for me? I mumble with playfulness- “you see if you were not born on the Nordic shores ?

I am loving the waves now clinging to my feet. Almost nudging to salute.

I find the waves, small nudges as they come, welcoming too.

“We missed you”
“I miss you too” I answer gently.

Kids descend on the beach too. I glance at them while finding a spot for myself to sit.

They seem unfamiliar to the location. A bit shy and even if they were really tempted to jump and embrace it all, there was a lot of caution. Their steps were not as determined as mine.

Yet, the waters and the waves were calling them too.

I hear and see now a taller kid shepherding the younger ones :

“Don’t go into the water, it is cold.”
They listen and run back from the water.

A hear a small girl convincing her sisters and brothers to build sand castles and dig a hole.
The girl is curios and willing to experience with all that unknown material.

There is a boisterous dialogue, a mix of enthusiasm, so called knowledge , as in the beginner’s mind- on how to build a sand castle. Here are tones mixing in of fear ,calling the sand dirty and cold. The voices fight against each other to make themselves heard. To make themselves lead with confidence never mind their very young age.

I now surrender into this noisy background that is just a tree branch away.

“We are all welcome here, do not be afraid. Play at ease” – I whisper in my mind gently.

While I have nothing in common with the group of the kids I have felt connected through their reactions and how unfamiliar the ocean was to them.

I welcomed their voices into the open space. The various notes of shyness mixed with courage. An innocent courage to voice out all their fears. High notes competing with each other in wanting to be heard. First.

“Were we all kids perhaps born near a mountain, just like me?” I wondered.

And the sand right over here a new material for us?

I take a deep breath in and get lost into the breeze. I’d like to imagine that the breeze comes and finds me.

Gently awakening my heart.
She is welcoming.

I close my eyes and let all there was right there surround me.

Surrender to the surround.
waves

breeze

voices

playfulness

sand 

I close my eyes and dream

Kids are called to their lunch and one by one they leave. They also leave a pile of sand that could not rise yet up to a castle.

The silence reigns again
The silence of the waves crashing.

Just enough surround sound to make you feel alive.

I feel my shoulders and my spine pulled with gravity. They surrender too. I count up to twenty.

With each breath there is a deeper degree of surrendering. One more.

My hands play slowly and gently in the sand - holding this “liquid” for a while and then letting it fully go;

I know I could not hold on too long to these thousands of particles refusing to stick together; they stay together but they are so free.

I find this very moment that I longed to for days. I meet with this moment in a cosmic dance.
I find a sweet tenderness that can be only met at the right time under the gentle sun rays and the waves merely raising to disappear again.

Here I am floating in my sweet surrender.

I turn my eyes away from the sun and I find the flowers awaiting for me with patience to take them home.

I whisper “Thank You. This is all I want”.
I stand and wave good bye to the ocean.

The bunch of bright flowers under my arm gives my confidence back. They almost become the bridge to realness, allowing me to step out of my surrendering mode to a svelte and brisk walk.

I feel responsible for their vulnerability and the beauty of these flowers in bloom as they need nourishment and water.

Tracing now my steps backwards on this invisible drawing of a dreamy map,I am getting closer to the hill I have started my journey from.

I pass by bicycles and I see a family with kids and their wavy hair in the wind.

I take the corner up the hill and I keep the alertness. I feel rejuvenated.

I feel the harmony of Mother Nature welcoming us in all there is here on this quiet island.

I stop this time to take in the sound of the fallen leaves that I stepped on. As usual, I measure the slope bringing me closer to home with a quick view. The harmony is ever present and no task of climbing seems daunting at all.

At the foothills of the mountains I find now the crunch of these leaves, the sight of a not-so forgotten path, the broken tree trunk marking the entrance to the path as the witness of all who walked by for years now.

These leaves sound like home. One home I can see right there, up the stairs.

The same sound brings me back to the house on a hill where my grandparents built a home.

The leaves take me back to the garden of my grandmother. The fallen leaves of the walnut tree. The fallen leaves of apple and plum trees.
While I am here, I am there too.

Under the gentle sun rays of a mild winter. 

A mild winter so welcoming.

2 mins silence