Day 388: Defining Calm

Day 388: Defining Calm (1)

 

Here I continue in a way, with what comes up next for me, as I consider this word Calm and how it is within me, and how I am in it. Something I am seeing at the moment is how the word Constancy has been kind of present in me, maybe as a delegate in a way, of physical calm, I mean it comes up in me as I begin to look at Calm:  So not really an amble or a ramble, but respecting what is here, in this post, I go with Constancy.

 

What in Constancy? And Constant Sea, and Constant See. In looking at the word Constancy, a memory came up in me:  So here I share this memory and open it up, to look at some of it’s components.

 

When I was young I lived in a house that was just a few streets to walk down to get to the sea, so, very often on summer days, I was there. When the tide went out there was a beach of yellow sand, and walking on the sand towards the breaking waves seemed like a long walk, or else, having had enough of the delights of feet and toes in sand and sinking sand, I would break into a run to meet the sea, and run through the waters, the gentle waters of the low tide where I learned to dive in to it and to swim. Then sometimes when the tide was high my family would find a perch upon a bank of shingle where they would set up their camp with wind breakers and towels spread out and beach things: here I learned to play with the bigger waves as they came in. I would get close up and sink my feet into the gravel as it drained into the oncoming wave, and then as the wave enveloped me, I would raise my arms as the water came up to my chest, and then would lift me up and take my body and hurl it round and round like in a fizzy watery salty tumbling motion, and then lay me out again, upon the slope of beach, lying me on my back again upon the streaming slope of gravel bed, wiping the salt from my eyes, and listening to the crashing booms of the collapsing waves and the myriad of tinkling fizzing sounds of water streaming underneath my head and back and down my legs into the crushing of the fall of following waves. For me there was a sort of intimacy with the sea in that experience: in future times that memory would become more like a desire to experience again that relationship, and within that a fear of losing it, where the sparkle of the sea first sighted in the distance would become a trigger of a feeling of being reunited with something missed: a point in which it was like a checking in with who I am in this relationship, where there became a whole personal side to meeting once again, as it would become, as in a personal relationship, in my mind, the being, of the sea. Seeing the glimmer of the sea, I would let go of something in me, a release of longing, within this a sense of coming home to a truth of me, that here after all was the real point around which all else fuzzed into as distraction, like here I am walking on this edge of beach, checking in with reality. And what I would experience in such visits would be a transition from these feelings in my mind, to the physical realities of the sea, where none of that existed, and being there, I would simply walk, it was as if the wind would simply blow away that stuff, where thoughts like: ‘Here I am amongst the Elements’ had no purchase, but as a passing remark within my mind. Though later on within my memories I would let such thoughts attach. And I would look towards the city and see my life in all it’s ups and downs, as if they were contained within that tiny place, and I would ask myself why it was that I could not always remember that this huge event of sea meets land was always going on, was always just around a corner in my life, and yet somehow there was no time for it, that somehow within all of that, in a way, that I was missing my reality.

 

What can I draw from that? Looking at my projection from the beachhead to this confinement of a life with ups and downs, I see within that, that from here, I am looking at my own existence through a frame of regret. I realise that in a way I have been holding my breath or part of my breath, a sense of lasting out. I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed for thoughts and memories to be interfering with my breath, and that I have not allowed myself to breathe in some way, or to let go of holdings, except under certain conditions that I have stated in my mind, making triggers such as seeing the glimmer of the sea.

 

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed through this memory story to have veiled from me the experience of me at the very source of it, being at one with my physical body in the physical elements of the sea. I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to tie a certain experience of myself to certain conditions or places. I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to personify a character of walking-by-the-sea within a construct in my mind of things missed, or lost, or in a narrative of regret. I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed this relationship with the sea to have directed actions in the world, where I see I have for example walked along the tideline of an open beach, living in my mind the confining veils of these emotions. I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to sanctify these relationships within my mind, finding reasoning of ways that I could be in an experience of righteousness in living out this relationship/program as part of who and how I am, rather than showing me that this is a belief that I have made, in which my actions are being shaped by my relationship to ‘the sea’, that constant sea, as in standing by it, checking in with it, sometimes. Within that I had made a reference of this constancy, as a reality that was there, had for millions of years been there, this beach, this sea, that standing in that context I could as it were share in the experience of that constancy. I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to believe and so perceive that my personal relationship with the sea is something real, that on some level within me that I have stepped onto a beach with the expectation of a meeting with the sea, with memories of breaking into a run to meet the sea, where I have created in my mind a relationship which has these features of lost and found, of being overwhelmed, yet lifted up and tossed around and gently laid back down, like playing a game with a beneficent power where in that chaos I had found a way of letting go, had through that letting go allowed myself to experience myself at one, lying on the streaming gravel in the maw of the waves.

 

 

More on this, along the way of defining and redefining Calm… next post

 

 

 

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~ by adamsblogs on May 7, 2017.

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