Thing #5: the sound of the ocean

I woke up in an unsettled mood, and despite my plans for a long, thorough, and rewarding run, my mind and body refused to cooperate resulting in an aborted attempt (a pathetic 3.5 miles in 38 minutes). Still, despite the pessimism in which I was destined to wallow, today has become surprisingly positive, my outlook optimistic. I have a trip to the beach, coffee, and thing #5 to thank for this.

The sound of the waves, to me, is a bit like cockroaches: timeless. As long as there have been land masses that meet water, there have been waves crashing against shorelines. When I walk away from the beach, the ever dimming sound of the waves will continue despite my absence. Everyday, the sound goes on and on, echoing to the past and into the future. It's comforting in that way, and the sound is just plain comforting, kind of like a lullaby or "Edelweiss" from the Sound of Music. I am safe when I hear it. I am grounded. I feel like I can hear God. I always imagined he could speak through the waves - the gentle roar as the water wells up and the crash as the peak meets the water again - it's the way I would talk if I were God.

I'd like to know that I brought peace to someone, after all.