I awoke about 5:30 to the sound of rain gently falling on the glass covering the hatch above my head. The sky was overcast with grey clouds tinged with pink from the sunrise behind them. It was like a soft watercolor. I love the marina on a Monday morning, the contrast between the hustle and bustle and yelling of people happy and excited about going out on the bay in a sailboat or a powerboat is stark.Those of us who are live-aboards enjoy the company of the weekenders, bur also value our solitude. We often sit under the gazebo and exchange stories. Last night I enjoyed the company of a little boy who found delight in the rocks at the boat launch and kept bringing me his finds that I might share in his discoveries of pebbles with various textures and shapes and colors. He brought me pale yellow and rose quartz and limestone streaked with turquoise colored minerals. He brought me rocks with layers of striations and others polished smooth by the sea. They were not large rocks, but instead tiny specimens the size of marbles and their size gave them a specialty I loved. He looked at me and we knew in an instant that the years that separated us mattered not a whit when it came to an appreciation of the gifts of the Earth.
I lay my head back on my pillow and look up and let the atmosphere wash over me.
There is a feeling of tranquility and restfulness this morning. Even the birds seem to be sleeping late in their roosts high in the trees. The weathervanes are still and steady showing the wind from the northwest, more a breeze than a wind. The halyards are silent and the waters calm, causing me to feel a sway instead of a rocking. I am reminded of swinging as a child. Oh how I loved to pump my legs and get my swing going fast and high and then tuck my legs beneath me and close my eyes and let the momentum find a slow and steady pace as I swung like a pendulum, ever slower until I came to a rest. My breathing would slow from its furious pace of pumping the swing high to a deep inhale and exhale.
There was a sweet bay laurel tree near my swing and I loved to take in the scent as it drifted past me. Sometimes the scent melded into a light taste of bay in my mouth. The memory seems to awaken the smell and taste as if I am back on the edge of the deep woods on my swing by my laurel bay with its small and heady blossoms.
All the precious memories of our lives are always with us and as we add layers to the textures of our lives they do not really obscure those memories. They blend and swirl together and become more together than they are apart, a synergetic effect. I recall listening in my youth to Buckminster Fuller expound of this new idea with rapt attention, trying to understand how 2+2 could be 5 or 50 or 500 or even infinite. I didn’t know at the time that it would take years of living hard before the concept could take hold.
Enjoy the moments of today and take responsibility for the opportunities the Universe puts before you. Do not be afraid. Be contemplative and pensive, but bold and passionate with your choice. Turn toward life and remember that these new experiences become part of the new layers of your life.