Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Walking the beach


      Before dawn’s rising sun appears over Long Island Sound like a round copper coin, I walk for several miles along the calm morning surf. I am alone with my thoughts in the crisp salt air except for a couple fishermen in a boat near the half-mile rock. It is my mental and physical health best practice. 

     My eyes scan across the sand. A glitter or an odd shape stops me, and I bend down to collect a piece of sea glass or a perfectly shaped shell. I slip a new treasure in my deep pants' pocket, and I open my sweatshirt to let it flap in time with the slight breeze before I continue on. 

     I solve relationship problems, moving location issues, loss and discouragement while fingering the contents of my pocket like chanting a mantra of hope with prayer beads on my soulful journey.

     The dependability of God’s marvelous creation flows through me energetically, and I feel rejuvenated. I return to the beach house kicking off my sandals and shaking my problems away like fine grains of sand washing back into the surf repeatedly until the end of time. The sun is up warming the earth and my spirit is lifting as dew evaporates from the grass.