Tonight I want to share a piece of my existence with you. As you know I absolutely love the beach, however, that love extends beyond it just being a favorite place to visit. The beach is the only place that has ever felt like home. It’s the escape needed to find clarity amongst my cerebral thunderstorm, it’s the warm hug that washes a safe calmness over my bones. The beach has always been the only place where I felt as though I belonged.
The way in which I’d like to share my slice of heaven with you is to take you on a little journey. I want you to see the beach through my eyes, the way I saw my world back when I was sixteen, before the surgeries, before the light was reinstalled.
Now I am fully aware that your eyes need to be open in order for you to read this, so I want you to do me a favor…the next time you go to the beach I want you to close your eyes and truly see the beach through your other senses, through the darkness.
Ok so, you’re standing on the beach…now close your eyes. Take a moment to soak in your current surroundings through those four remaining senses. What do you see? Here, allow me to help.
Feel that…the cooling breeze softly brushing across your cheeks causing your goosebumps to raise into a “put your hoodie on” chain reaction. All indicating that the sun is setting. The slightly warm sand squishing in between your toes, those tiny grains softening the roughness of daily life off of those traveling feet of yours.
Taste that…the salt from the ocean intermingling with that cool breeze. That salty taste floating across your tastebuds.
Smell that…that crispness embedded in the breeze, the essence of the ocean mist calming your breathing pattern.
Hear that…the sound of the foam capped waves crashing in and out, the foam popping on the sand every time the wave returns to the ocean. The palm tree branches swaying in a swoosh formation as that cool breeze sneaks between the palm leaves.
Beautiful isn’t it.
I’ve always known what the beach felt like, but it wasn’t until after I lost my sight that I truly saw the beach.
(I’ve had surgeries to regain my vision, but every now and again I’ll close my eyes. Clarity within the darkness)