A Walk On The Beach

I went on a walk to the beach yesterday. It was one of those walks that you feel you could just walk on and on with no consideration for returning. With every step you are adding an extra one for the return but you just want to continue. It helped that there was a wind pushing me from behind and persuading me to take the easy option of avoiding turning and facing it. Eventually you do just for curiosity and once around a spell is broken as you see how bloody far you must return.

The wind was blowing a layer of dusty sand over the compact wet post-tidal sand under foot and it appeared like I was walking upstream in a river. I lowered my hood and took off my hat so as to feel the true force of nature on my skin. In turn I eyed the sea, it’s infinite refreshing of anything attempting to remain unchanged. With that the stagnant air and weight I felt under, crushing me and my mind, the wind trying it’s best to blow off the shackles but it became clear the sea was only ever the master of all. On I walked in the direction of home.

As the end of the beach became clearer and my opportunity to discover a fresh new existence was running out, the once quiet argument within became louder with each step. To strip off and jump in or to stay clear of the elements and their liberation. Finally with little but rocks left the jacket was determinedly unzipped and the shoes and socks taken off. But in that moment some sense of fear took over, the decision was made to simply dip my feet and see how it felt. If ever this was a moment for why the best approach is always to just jump before you have time to think or feel it was now. On the other hand if ever there was a time to prove caution is the master it too was now.

When the sea is at it’s coldest I couldn’t tell you but with the summer suns yet to appear the winter chill still held sway over the icy cold. The water was no higher than my ankles before I turned in pain, the nerves on my feet sending crisis alarms to my brain and demanding I abort this folly. It is said a cold shower or a cold dip in the sea will extend your life but in that moment a swim may have been an abrupt finale. I turned and scampered to the sun. With that my feet tingled, the fire and ice that a freeze can bring. On came the socks, with laughter at myself and my own one man comedy show performed for nobody I scampered home and to the equally refreshing but infinitely more enjoyable warm shower, clean clothes and comfy sofa. Enough of these harsh elements, now it is time to grow soft as life determines it should be.

Mental Strife

And woe behold, is todays mind but one bereft of even those most basic of ideas” said me now, not someone from an age past, only partly quotable in what the modern age has done to language. Basically I can’t really think of anything to write about…bereft of ideas as a wise man once said. Perhaps I should wait until later in the day when maybe the mind is more keen to do battle with the creative limits it’s own development has boxed it into. Exactly the reason for choosing this moment of struggle to put out a piece, the challenge of finding light in the darkness, the very creative representation of the Guru in translation. For do we not learn what is true in times of strife, when adversity forces us through the self-imposed limits of our ability to find solutions within ourself? The answers are forever within. Alone in life we embrace this struggle of discovery until we are left with nothing but the hollowed out carcass of illusionary past moments and past lives. The frame of conditions we believed were once the existence that held together the fragility of consciousness, of all that we could see and understand before our eyes now nothing but dust as it exposes itself in the light of truth. But what of truth in this great journey of understanding, for what if mine is yours and yours is mine, are not all universal the understandings we seek? Delving deeper into this morass of darkness and confusion that comes before the light, thrashing and screaming as we see only the untruth before our eyes in all it’s ugly vain glory. Until the moment of acceptance comes before our minds eye, will we forever miss the beauty in the darkness of our delusion. The acceptance that comes when we understand we can no longer blame this darkness for stopping us breathing, but our own inabilities to inhale the truth that now fills our lungs. In and out we breath, the oxygen of light that simply began with us pushing out from the shackles we accepted, that grew while we floundered but which now lay smashed upon the ground. The hammer of liberty breaking the bonds of ignorance held in place through such safe existence. Grown fat through illiterate teachings, shepherds of prosperity forcing us to regurgitate their own vomit. To discover the chains had no lock when all is too late and all is lost. For we learn it is easier to dig our own graves, stepping into the reassuring darkness. Better this murky existence than merely pushing ourselves in times of mental stupor.