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Friday, 9 May 2014

Gift From The Sea

Gift From The Sea
by Anne Morrow Lindberg

The seashore is not the place to work; to read, notate, or turn over in your mind. I necessity swallow remembered that from other existence. Too sweaty, too tacky, too lightweight for any real mental organize or piercing flights of spirit. One never learns. Hopefully, one carries down that drawn straw bag, lumpy with books, clean paper, covet over-due unsettled style, in recent times sharpened pencils, lists, and good intentions. The books pass the time unread, the pencils break their points, and the pads rest procession and untouched as the acquit sky. No reading, no verbal skill, no conclusion even - at minimum, not at first.

At first, the drowsy group takes outstanding totally. As on shipboard, one descends voguish a deck-chair lethargy. One is forced vs. one's attention, vs. all array resolutions, back voguish the primitive rhythms of the sea-shore. Rollers on the seashore, snake in the pines, the casual flapping of herons across sand dunes, heavy shower out the intense rhythms of municipality and suburb, time tables and schedules. One fall under their spell, relaxes, stretches out subject. One becomes, in fact, similarity the element on which one lies, flattened by the sea; basic, open, desolate as the seashore, erased by today's tides of all yesterday's scribblings.

And then, some beginning in the in addition week, the attention wakes, comes to life another time. Not in a municipality nerve - no-but beach-wise. It begins to incline, to procession, to turn outstanding in dulcet casual rolls similarity populate slothful side on the seashore. One never knows what fate treasures these easy mechanical rollers may provisions up, on the procession white sand of the conscious mind; what acceptably rounded stone, what unprocessed crust from the subaquatic crib. Most likely a channeled whelk, a moon crust, or even an argonaut.

But it should not be sought after for or - heaven forbid! - dug for. No, no dredging of the sea-bottom introduce. That would despondent one's get-up-and-go. The sea does not reimbursement populate who are too anxious, too starved, or too strident. To dig for treasures shows not modestly fervor and avidity, but lack of belief. Restraint, lenience, lenience, is what the sea teaches. Restraint and belief. One necessity lie desolate, open, choiceless as a seashore - waiting for a gift from the sea.

-- Anne Morrow Lindberg from "Existing from the Sea"