I’m gazing out into the sea. There are some waves, but they are only very faint ripples. It is a little bit misty and I can’t see very far nor clearly, yet that doesn’t get in the way of my knowing that the sea is vast.
All the people I’ve ever known, from all the places I’ve ever been, are with me. Yet they are not. I’m on my own. I have lost. I wish I wasn’t alone. I feel lost. I see something like an emptiness in that sea.
But no, perhaps the sea has a certain fullness to it. Real. Deep. I’m confused.
What is it I really see in the sea? I may perceive a melancholy within the sea today but that, I know, is just a reflection of something taking place within me.
There is something happening around about my eyes. Behind them. They feel moist. I’d really like to shed a tear or two. . .and since there is always a fair chance when I’m on my own that a tear will come I suppose in a way I’m also feeling grateful, perhaps even a little joyful too, that I am alone with that sea. For I might go deeper into it.
I am feeling very sad. I can’t fully explain why I’m sad but it is not the explanation I really care about right now. I’m just sad, and it’s OK to just feel sad.
I want to just look out into that sea for now.
The sea, like me, is what it is and I’m doing my best to accept it for what it is. Just the sea. Just me.
That is not at all easy though. I can feel a strong urge to push the sadness away, to avoid it, to hide it, from my-self, and especially others, as if somehow feeling sad isn’t OK.
This sadness evasion has been a lifelong habit. One that I picked up early in life because sadness never seemed that welcome.
This habit though, I’m certain it doesn’t serve me.
If I touch into my sadness more deeply, letting it linger as long as it needs to, there may follow a release, a lightness, a learning, a growth. . .you might even say, strange as it sounds, a deeper and more enriching type of happiness (more authenticity, deeper connection with others, freedom, self-acceptance).
Perhaps I’ll find something of an answer, in the sea, in my sadness.
Yes, I know I will. . .