At times ...
(St. Lucia log)
Yesterday I felt to go to the sea. The idea of it was cleansing in a way that nothing else could be. I felt for a quiet beach, but Rodney Bay, which is walking distance from where Mel lives, was crowded with a pack-load of tourists. We had a light lunch at Spinnakers, then walked along the beach and found a fairly quiet spot toward the end of the bay. The sea was gentle and warm and I went in alone. At times I just floated, surrendering to what is unimaginably larger than I am. At times I folded up like a foetus and was submerged and drifting in a massive womb. At times I tried handstands (which more ended up being flips) - and turned myself upside down like a salt shaker, emptying out. At times I just gently breast-stroked my way through the water. At times I went under the water and, as it supported me, I stretched myself out into whatever pose felt good ... Neptune yoga, maybe? At times I went under the water and spoke into it, knowing it was listening and understanding, even though I didn't really know what to say or how to put the essence into words. It, in itself, is beyond words. At times I just lay down or sat cross-legged in the shallow, allowing the gentle waves to shift me slightly. Then, when I felt to, I came out.
Yesterday I felt to go to the sea. The idea of it was cleansing in a way that nothing else could be. I felt for a quiet beach, but Rodney Bay, which is walking distance from where Mel lives, was crowded with a pack-load of tourists. We had a light lunch at Spinnakers, then walked along the beach and found a fairly quiet spot toward the end of the bay. The sea was gentle and warm and I went in alone. At times I just floated, surrendering to what is unimaginably larger than I am. At times I folded up like a foetus and was submerged and drifting in a massive womb. At times I tried handstands (which more ended up being flips) - and turned myself upside down like a salt shaker, emptying out. At times I just gently breast-stroked my way through the water. At times I went under the water and, as it supported me, I stretched myself out into whatever pose felt good ... Neptune yoga, maybe? At times I went under the water and spoke into it, knowing it was listening and understanding, even though I didn't really know what to say or how to put the essence into words. It, in itself, is beyond words. At times I just lay down or sat cross-legged in the shallow, allowing the gentle waves to shift me slightly. Then, when I felt to, I came out.
Labels: beginnings, experiences, gratitude, nature, spirituality, st. lucia, symbolism, yoga/meditation
posted by Elspeth at Saturday, December 29, 2007
5 Comments:
This is an absolutely beautiful piece of writing...wonderful images of you in the water, I not a water person at all felt safe in the womb of water you created here for us to enjoy with you.
Happy for you having this peaceful time there. Enjoy! Wonderful way to end this year and begin the next.
Oh this is a perfect description of the perfect swim in an ocean. There is something just so wonderful about diving and floating in the sea!
-andreamuse
Oh, this sounds incredibly healing. It's been so long since I had that experience, but when I had...it was just as you describe. Just reading your narration of this has brought shivers and tears to my body.
my theme for the year 2008 is "now", so i was tickled by the name of your blog! loved your writing about the ocean. i could imagine and feel it. happy new year to you!
Lovely blog you haave
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