Sitting Still

I guess it's natural for grieving and thoughts of the past to be making a comeback this month given the activities which were going on a year ago. Was it really a year ago? Some images are so clear that they feel like they could have happened yesterday.

Having built a life with someone for so long felt like creating a sailboat. At first a simple lashing together of two simple rafts. A rickety structure that with care is transformed into a mighty schooner - and all done while floating along on the waves.

Of course losing your partner is like hitting a reef and having the ship sink in shallow water - leaving only a portion of the ship exposed above the surf. Some folks wouldn't be able to abandon the ship and (though solo) would attempt to keep the remaining hull in good repair thinking that this particular ship might sail once again.

Others would jump into the surf but not wanting to leave would circle the ship, treading water, slowly draining their energy.

Others would quickly swim to shore and walk away (or run), not being able to bear looking back at the wreck.

Still others would allow their body to ride the vicious waves and be naturally pushed to shore, coming to rest in the unstable sandy surf. Eventually gaining the will to pull themselves up onto firmer ground. Maybe they'd take time to sit and view the ship's remains. Maybe they'd take time to contemplate the fine adventures they'd once had. Over time exploring down the beach but often returning to their perch. Curiously beginning to gather flotsam and jetsam for a new raft.

Me, I can't claim to be any one those characters. Some things I've let happen, some things I've forced, some things I've run away from. I've spent time gathering new materials. I've spent time testing the waters. Lately it feels right to take some time and to sit still on the beach.