Earlier this month, my husband and I traveled to the southern coast of Maine where we have a summer cottage. Our charming retreat was built for his grandparents by his father, nearly fifty years ago. My husband has cherished memories of spending summers there when he was a boy, doted on and adored by his grandmother and grandfather both, and I’ve grown to love being in this beautiful place as much as he does. As soon as we turn down the marsh road leading toward the ocean, we each feel ourselves breathe in the salt air, even as we exhale anything that might carry the least bit of weight in our hearts and minds. It’s exquisite, each time we make this journey, once in summer and again in the fall.
And with each step into the magic portal of our time there, I find myself different than when I entered. I step back into our life here in Atlanta with a deeper and awakened awareness of myself. Everything feels changed. There is a piece of myself that is released even as another pure facet of my soul’s crystal turns to glimmer in the light of who I am.
Part of our ritual together while at the coast, my husband and I, is to walk along the shore’s edge, stopping to take in the beauty of New England homes nestled beautifully against each other, watching seagulls as they fly and dive, casting their enchantment upon the sand; leaving us breathless, in awe of all that surrounds us, of the majesty and mysteries that whisper here amongst the salty mist.
I could feel a sense of intimacy as we came upon flocks of sandpipers dancing with the waves. As the water flowed in, they ran toward the shore; and with each receding wave, moved in synchronized flow back toward the water. They were glorious in their natural rhythm, and I was completely entranced by these funny little birds, by their utter surrender to the call of the waves and of what might lie beneath the waters with each ebb and flow.
My husband went to sit on the bench for a bit, soaking up the sunshine and soothing sound of waves. I stayed and watched the sandpipers in their dance, seduced by the sweetness of how they played with Life. As I stood there, watching, waiting to see them once again take wing and fly together in search of the next wave, I thought ‘this is how I make love to the world.’ And in truth – how the world makes love to us. We have only to stop long enough to feel the penetration, to engage in the foreplay that is present in every moment, in every heartbeat of stillness and rhythmic movement alike. I am a lover of this Life, of the beauty, grace, pleasure and elegance it offers to us at every turn. And I believe with all I am, that She too is a Lover of me.