My daughter and I have found that when life seems to be a struggle the beach can go a long ways toward fixing it. Rituals, too, have a way of putting cares at rest. Put the two together and Viola’ magic.
Last week daughter and I drove to the beach. The closest to us is about an hour’s drive away in Florence Oregon. Often whatever the weather is here, it will be the opposite over there, so we didn’t concern ourselves with the weather, we were going no matter what. True to form it rained in the coast range, but popping out the other side brought us into a perfect day, sunny and warm.
We wrote affirmations on the soft wet compacted sand. We were in a sheltered cove, where the tide was out, and a little water, perfect for wading, sat behind the breakwater, a dam of boulders the size of small cars. We knew when the tide rolled in and back out it would take our words and concerns and wash them into the sea, the great cleansing system that is that purveyor of life.
Little Boy Darling ankle high in ice water, pushing bare toes into soft said, “This is the best day ever.”
We were alone until a man and his dog entered the beach about a quarter mile away. There the man threw a ball for the dog over and over, and you know about dogs and balls, more is never enough.
Presently a little lady, all bundled up, sauntered slowly toward us. She stopped and offered a bite of apple to Peaches. Some dogs like fruit, but definitely not Peaches. “Lips that touch apples will never…” Well, you get the drift.
The lady was wearing a cannula, with a plastic tube running from beneath her nose to her back where she wore a back pack carrying a small oxygen tank. She said good bye and left. Later on I saw her making her way in the opposite direction. I commented “Wow, you do good.” She said on days when the tide is out she makes four trips down this long expanse of beach.
I watched as she slowly moved away doing her laps, and I stood there chiding myself for not running after her and asking if she would tell me her story. Would she have done it? And what might her story be? She carried the experience of years. She appeared upbeat in spite of her limitations. She could breathe. She was making good use of it.
That night I read a little of Jack Canfield’s book, The Success Principles. He said that when he and Mark Hansen were contemplating their book Chicken Soup for the Soul, they realized there was an untapped market for upbeat, uplifting stories.
And the media thinks “If it bleeds it leads.” Imagine.
Do you have an upbeat story? A happy story?
Send it to me. I will print it here.
We could continue Canfield’s movement.
A kiss for showing up.