One of my favorite things about my first year living on the beach is experiencing each season and its treasures. The vastness I feel from the universe as I gaze out from the edge of land. The deep, poetic thoughts impressed by my senses.
I moved in mid-August, sand levels were high and tides far out. As the months went on, the sun set closer to the front of my house, perfection each night as it sank below the horizon. Directly into the Pacific Ocean, no obstructions besides nature’s chosen patterns. Fall is my favorite time of year in LA. Sunny, but cooler days, followed by cloudy, masterpieces for sunsets. Fiery skies collecting color through each formation. Unique and powerful. Vibrant and calming.
Once the sand levels lowered, I discovered my staircase was longer than I even knew! As the tides broke over, new steps revealed themselves. A metaphor for the depth drowning brings. The levels climbed to shore after the storm washes over don’t just disappear. To pull myself out of those deeper times, my ladder must extend. Stretching my dimensions. Fully immersed in the human experience. My reach broadens. My capability always expanding. It isn’t until I climb back up that I can see the silver lining. How far I’ve come and how much I’ve gained in the process.
The waves crashing under my house were another exhilarating surprise. Now living on the ocean, not just the beach. I have had this reoccurring dream since I was a child. It’s my world as I know it, but instead of roads, cars, ground, everything is water. I swim wherever I want to go. While swimming isn’t a prominent thing in my life, those dreams have always been, to me, as satisfying as flying. While some people find freedom and relaxation in their flying dreams, I find total peace in these dreams navigated through water. Flowing so easily, elegantly. At my own pace, unbothered by the paths of others. Once again, my dream has became my reality. My comfort has become my home.
As the sun starts to move behind the mountains, I’ve been curious what new perks would be discovered. This time the beach revealed physical treasures. Taken by the sea, returned as precious gifts. Garbage worn and frosted into beautiful gems. Sea glass! Just another transformation through rough waters. Who knew a broken bottle could form into such a jewel? Never underestimate the potential a turbulent journey enlightens. It’s the salt, the scratches, the tumbling through the sea that revealed the value of those sharp, broken pieces.
As I delve into these days of collection, my thoughts slow down. My intentions become clearer. If I only look for the big pieces that stick out from where I’m standing, I’ll miss out on the endless beauty that surrounds. Unique and colorful finds mixed into the sand. Some take digging, most just an open mind. Of course I could wait to see those bigger pieces before I crouch down and rummage through. When things look good, there’s probably more good to be found. But what if I’m missing the good that takes more careful observation? Letting my mind focus only on the obvious big and shiny attractions, when it’s those tiny, harder to find pieces that bring more reward.
With the arrival of this sea glass season, I am grounded, literally. I have a goal, my walks have tangible purpose. I come back with physical reward. A jar full of my successes. Souvenirs of my commitment. Appreciation for individuality, the beauty in authenticity. Battled and bruised, these colors find new form. Just like all the other precious moments I’ve experienced here at the beach, metaphors of a full life. Accepting bumpy times and uplifted because of them. Dreams don’t come true without a little fight. Beauty is pain, understood and nurtured pain.
Closure is an interesting thing. I say I need it to heal and move on but I’m not sure I ever really believe that. What I’m looking for isn’t closure, it’s a way to re-enter. Hanging on to something I need to let go of and “looking for answers” to validate staying. It is the string attached to me and the problem. High voltage and hazardous until cut.
However, I finally received closure on my first heartbreak. One I felt I was stuck with. Unwilling to accept that I couldn’t have what I wanted. I couldn’t make something work just because I wanted it to. I didn’t really believe anything but time would help this wound heal. Help my heart move forward. Want to love again and someone else for that matter. Not even closure.
But then it happened. I finally got the conversation I had been longing for. To be completely raw, I had been begging for it. Confirmation in what we had and understanding in what is now. It actually worked. For some reason, this is what it took for me to let go. I guess it made sense to me for the first time. It wasn’t discrediting the authenticity of our relationship to end it, but giving value to my past. Creating a new space for this time of my life, and not forcing it into the future with me. Believing in its place. Leaving the puzzle piece where it is because it fits there. If I move it or try to take it with me, the puzzle will be left incomplete.
As much as moving on from this dark place in my life felt freeing, it was worrisome how it came about. Having closure from someone else be the deciding factor on my ability to move on is unacceptable. I know I won’t always have that opportunity. I need to find closure within myself. I need to be the final say in what I move on from and how. I must learn to create closure when no one else can give it to me.
Where will I start? What was it about this situation, this particular closure, that gave me relief? Validation and proper placement. Confidence in my feelings and truth for where I stand. But how could I be unsure of my feelings? My feelings are facts. I’ll start there.
Just as it takes time to build trust with other people, it takes time to build trust with myself. If I’m not being honest with myself about my feelings, how can I expect to trust my purpose? So this is what I vow to work on. To allow movement in and out of my life that feels good. If a piece of my puzzle feels stuck, forced into place, it probably doesn’t belong there. I need to listen to my intuitions and trust my gut. I need to put the puzzle pieces down before they get torn up and shredded from misplaced trauma. I need to keep working as my life unfolds and not get held back by one piece. As long as I’m living, this puzzle of life is never complete. But it can be completed up to this moment. Feel solid and fit together to grow from. My timeline is a piece of work. Circumstances laid out on a table, my time and effort to make something of them. To never give up.
So how will I give myself closure? When it feels like I need someone else’s story, someone else’s pieces? Trust I’m working with all the pieces I need. My hands are all that is necessary to secure them. Waiting around to see what other pieces may show up is a waste of time and only cause for pain. I will decide how my pieces fit and let them be. Get excited for the new pieces to arrive and watch my puzzle grow into a masterpiece. Beauty will present itself if I keep placing my pieces and moving forward.