The Sound of Waves

As the holidays near and the Winter Solstice has just passed, a reflection point and a gratitude story seems appropriate. For many reasons, water has been the key element that has grounded me in the here and now and given me a sense of calm and freedom. Not just this year, but in many previous times of change, I have found myself drawn to the open water where I find solace. Whether sitting on a sailing boat, a surfboard or simply bobbing around in the sea, living on it or being surrounded by it has at times brought a desperately needed sense of safety this year.

The sea leaves me mesmerised every time I gaze out onto the open water. The constant change it brings through its continuous movement and strength, the vast colours and reflections as the sun and moon light bounce off the surface to an everlasting tune of the winds of time. The bubbles rising up from beneath me, tickling my feet, legs, arms and face, as I take the plunge into the deep blue and come up for air. The taste of salt on my lips, the smell of the sea in my hair, the warmth of the sand on my toes. Floating, synchronised to the pace of the world’s heart beat feels like coming home. A home I had to rediscover. These last two years brought turmoil, heartache, loneliness and anxiety upon many of us and it did not spare me. There was a specific period in which it felt a bit like what I imagine the underworld of our oceans to look like. Cold, lifeless, dark and gloomy. Its waters seeped through every piece of me, clawing its way into the cracks of my mind and pulling me down to the ocean floor. For a while the struggle was so hard I found myself paralised by my thoughts and afraid I would never reach the surface again. Float for a while I thought. Just be and accept the deep for a while and when you cannot hold your breath any longer, rise and come up for air. Once on the surface you can just float and breathe, fully surrounded by the element that brings you calm. It was that image that got me through the darkest days. I found solace in the fact that once I were to find the bottom of the sea, the only way was up. Wrapped in support bubbles I slowly made it back to the surface where I gazed to shore and started swimming the long way back. My muscles sore, my sun kissed lips burning from the salt, my eyes stinging from waves crashing into my face I finally made it, exhausted and battered by the winds of change, I landed safe and stepped onto dry land once again. The world looked different now. A new perspective I had gained makes me look more kindly on myself now. I have come to find the greatest love for the waves that are within me, the everlasting tidal wave that is my inner compass. The one that we seldom listen to, but know is there. The moon and stars are my guide as the waves ripple their way through my physical being and I embark on new adventures.

And as I ventured out in to the cold Welsh waters this autumn, I grabbed my board, fought the currents, paddled out into the deep, waited and surfed back to shore – this time, listening to the sound of the wave within me. With this new felt strength I know I can tackle anything 2022 throws at me and I have taken some bold and brave decisions that will bring on change in the next few months. The clutter that surrounds us, other people’s expectations, societal structures, jobs, who to be, who not to be…the art in living your best life lies in “Listening to the sound of waves within you” (Rumi).

This article is dedicated to all those, who often struggle amidst our deep oceans of fear, sadness and change – You too can listen to the sound of waves within you.

Thank you for being my support bubble this year – you know, who you are.

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