Before hubby and I left on our recent get-away to the gulf, a friend of mine said, “Nancy, be sure to do lots of ocean gazing.”
Sounds like stating the obvious doesn’t it?
But sometimes we need to state the obvious. Sometimes we need to remind ourselves to do the obvious. And that’s what I did, the obvious.
I did lots of ocean gazing while away.
I didn’t even mind that the weather was far less than perfect. In fact, the cool temps, heavy clouds, on and off rain and frequent fog seemed to fit my mood. Not that we didn’t see any sun and not that I spent my whole vacation feeling glum, but I must admit my mind was in a strange place all week for many reasons.
There’s nothing quite like nature, and more specifically there’s nothing quite like the ocean, even when it’s a bit tumultuous, maybe even more so when it is, to remind me of the obvious and to put things into perspective.
With one glance at it, the ocean instantly reminds me of its grandeur and vastness. I, in turn, feel humbled and small, but yet despite this comparison, or maybe because of it, I’m comforted by this obvious fact for some reason.
The ocean encourages and reminds me somehow to slow down, to look deeper, to not look deeper, to appreciate, to breathe, to marvel, to accept, to not accept, to let some things go, to hold onto what matters, to live in the moment, to escape the moment, to continue to grieve for my mom and also for my friend Rachel.
At the same time, the ocean encourages me to heal and just be…
Ocean gazing “washes” the clutter from my mind, making room for clearer thoughts.
The ocean teaches by perfect example that calmness and serenity will return if only I am patient and allow for this to happen. No matter how rough the seas become, calmness and serenity always return to the magnificently vast ocean.
Why would it be any different for little old me?
The ocean mysteriously “nudges,” almost “requiring me” to reflect and remember the past while also encouraging me to contemplate and plan for the future.
On some days ocean waves crash thunderously to shore displaying astonishing power as if demanding respect, and on other days they remain gentle and nearly non-existent, reminding me that life, too, sometimes crashes around me and at other times is peaceful and calm.
Sometimes these things are not meant to be changed by me.
The ocean has a way of putting things into perspective.
Yes, the ocean has a way of stating the obvious, and so much more.
How does nature teach, inspire or comfort you?
What part of nature do you seek refuge in?