Life on the Beach

I just had to go down to the lake and visit my newfound black-and-white feathered friends today. Startling with the black-and-white starkness of the drakes, beautifully paired with the smaller chocolate brown headed hens. Shy if I stop to watch them from the beach, one by one they would dive under water, and only resurface when they have to come up for air. The other day they were mixed in with the mallards and seagulls, making quite a ruckus. Today they seemed to be on their own, quietly riding the choppy waves, bobbing in and out, and making me smile.

Further on along, I saw a fish! I’ve never seen a fish on the shores of Lake Ontario before, even if it is only 2 inches long and dead. I said a little prayer for it, although I wasn’t sure it was needed. Then a few minutes later I found a small cluster of tiny mussels, clumped together by strands of seaweed (lakeweed?) Were they dashed up on the shore by the stormy water? I’ve never been flung before, I thought, except perhaps by fate.

Often, when I am down by the water’s edge, I experience episodes of inner conflict that I would call teacup tempests. I would become torn, between wanting to look up and take in the expanse of the water and wanting to look down to hunt for beautiful stones. I would start to get frustrated by this, angry at myself. Even I can see these are symptoms of a borderline obsession deeply tapped, usually I would tell myself this is petty and pathetic—don’t you have bigger issues to fry? Today I stopped and thought about the choices: get the big picture or get the details; zoom out and expand or zoom in and focus; generalization or minutiae; all-at-once or one-at-a-time… Why am I stuck with these extremes? Why do I have to choose? Why not have both? It’s what I end up doing anyway, enjoying the panorama as well as hunting for treasure, alternately. So why the fuss, working myself up into a snit? Because, the fear of missing out, the ‘not-enoughness’ is still wiggling like the worm it is inside my apple. I, who have so much… It didn’t even occurred to me to still myself into the moment.

How I can turn a contemplative walk into a head-butting debate astounds even me. I did remember, as I left the house, that I hadn’t done any of the meditative work I did yesterday, to get to that quiet golden place, pregnant with abundant peace and poise. What a difference it makes!