inception

I loved the ocean, it was the only place I could go to be by myself and never feel like I was alone, it felt like home to me. The quiet solitude that shimmered off of each ripple of water allowed me to enter a space where I understood that I was the ocean and she was me. I would catch glimpses of this every so often but it was challenging to hold on to.

Sometimes in calm waters I would head out to sea on my surfboard, paddling until the shore was barely visible and when I finally stopped I would just sit there. With my legs dangling on either side of my board, I’d soak in a 360 degree view of an expansive sea.

I wondered what it would be like to be lost at sea.

Would I have the instinct to survive? Would the ocean remain my friend and nurturer or would she relentlessly take until there was nothing left to give? I wondered if my love and respect for her would implode unto itself, blowing itself apart to distances beyond what the eye can grasp turning the very reason I love her into the very reason I could fear her. Could there be such a thing as fear of agoraphobia?

I’d look off to the horizon where the sky met the ocean and wondered what experience felt like at the point of inception. I wondered if there was more to this life then what I had been lead to believe. I romanced the idea of what land looked like on the other side.

I’d lay back on my board and close my eyes and imagine looking down on myself, hovering further and further upwards until I could see myself as a dot in the ocean from the atmosphere. I began to recognise gratitude and sensed that it was all I ever needed.