The Atlantic Ocean at Hilton Head Island

This past week I was at the Atlantic Ocean, and one of my favourite activities is walking the beach. I found myself totally mesmerized by the sand and the gorgeous patterns etched there. Sand, like all ground, is a perfect example of openness and receptivity. It takes whatever comes and is carved and changed by people walking and biking, chairs and towels, kids toys, wind, water, and other creatures. It is constantly being re-formed by the tides and weather. I love the way the sand feels on my feet – soft, warm, and yielding. It leaves an imprint of where I’ve been.

Sand teaches us about change – it’s ongoing, it’s informed by its environment, and there’s subtle beauty there, however ephemeral.

On the day we were to leave, we’d boarded a small plane and I was reading a chapter in a book by Roger Housden, Keeping the Faith without a Religion (paid link), on trusting change. The engines were on and we were all buckled in, and then the pilot said that there was a ground stop at our midway destination (due to a storm) and we would have to get off until it was lifted. Twenty-eight hours later, we made it home.

We can absolutely trust that changes will happen, and that they’re not personal. ~ Roger Housden

It was an interesting time, seeing how thousands of people handled these unexpected changes. Many adapted just fine. Others became irate and unhappy. Some took it out on others or the gate agents. Some even felt so entitled that they cut in line to get their questions answered before others.

Life has scant regard for our control needs. The show goes on, like it or not. ~ Roger Housden

When we were re-booking a flight, one gate agent said that life is sometimes an adventure. I just smiled and thought, no it always is.

Our intention is best served by an open, attentive mind, one that is inclusive of the larger forces of life around it, whatever they may be. ~ Roger Housden

Continuing my book, Housden went on to tell an incredible story about being detained and questioned in Iran and not knowing if he would ever get home, let alone get home alive.

Recognizing that I was utterly helpless and unable to do anything to change my circumstances, something in me let go. I let go of all hope, all despair, and all struggle. I gave up. And that was when I felt as alive and present to the world as I had ever felt. ~ Roger Housden

His story made a cancelled flight seem like a piece of cake. All we could do was let go of our plans. We would get home eventually. My husband must have felt some of that aliveness and presence during that time. He noticed a woman crying her eyes out as she talked on the phone. He bought her a bottle of water and told her that he hoped her day got better.

I thought of the sand and how it accepts whatever comes and creates subtle beauty in its wake.

 

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