The Comforting Melody of the Ocean Waves Spoke to Me

3rd of January, 2023 / 10:23 am EST

Riviera Maya January 2023 / Author’s image

I dig my toes deeper into the sand feeling the coolness beneath the surface as the grains massage my troubles away. My hands reach to my sides holding tightly to clumps of sand — only to let go. I watch as it slips through my fingers falling away, as do my worries.

I relax and feel the muscles in my neck and shoulders loosen.

I stare ahead into the waves that crash before me over and over — the ripples of white waters play “catch me if you can!”

My Moment / Author’s Image

This moment — listening and watching the ocean — belongs to me.

My moment. My now.

Whispers

The sun’s rays gently kiss my skin reminding me of his warm embrace that I painfully miss during many long winters.

The air is crisp and a gentle breeze brushes my hair over my face. I tuck my hair behind my ear — and there’s the sound. The ocean whispers to me, “be still.”

The creeping waves hush all needs and desires — I want to be here, alone. This moment silences the need for human-to-human contact or conversation.

I am a music lover — rhythms and beats accompany me when I’m alone.

Not today. Not now.

My Now — Author’s property

Sings

I can’t help but think about Dad. He has lost much of his hearing. Although the hearing aid helps, I understand many sounds are not the same. Sadly, he’s been unable to even enjoy music.

He too loves the ocean. I wish he was here taking this in with me. He grew up going to the beach for much of his life. I miss him.

He introduced me to the ocean as early as I can remember — she sings to me the melodies of my childhood.

The sounds of the ocean form a perfectly tuned lullaby that beckons me to slumberland.

I close my eyes — I remember.

Her waves often were the quiet backdrop to quiet conversations that needed to be had. Or the perfect accompaniment to the calypso beat that would blare from our then—boomboxes.

Quiets

She asks me, “do you listen?”

I enjoyed speaking with my sons these past few days.

I loved listening to them. They express joys, concerns, and worries they have about themselves and their future careers and lives. They are reflective of a world they see more clearly. For the first time in a long time, I understand “silence.”

I don’t need to solve all their problems and find the answers. This place gifts me the right time and space to just — be.

Her waves quiet my heart and my thoughts.

“Listen,” she says.

I don’t have to fill up the space with my words because the ocean sounds seek to soothe and calm our spirits. I am made a better listener.

How many times do my children speak and just want to be listened to? They don’t seek answers — they just need to be listened to.

I often have made the mistake of being quick to respond. I have wanted to talk for as long as needed in order to get my words across. I wanted to magically fill a void or an emptiness or solve a problem — afraid of the sound of silence.

Catch Me If You Can / Author’s Image

Instills

The ocean invites me to spend some time with silence, listening to my thoughts — remembering my childhood: times when I was often in the ocean, and yet, I did not listen to her.

I was busy playing in the sand and water. I wanted to build glorious castles or cover myself and my sister deep in the sand.

Now, I’m 47. I’m not a child.

I sit on this beach and the last thing on my mind is “play.”

The only thing I dwell upon is breathing this moment — in.

I want to make this last hour of my last day enjoying the ocean — she instills peace that I want to make last a lifetime.

I’m grateful for the opportunity to have come. I’m grateful for the love, teamwork, and sacrifices that help provide for these kinds of breaks as a family.

She Speaks / Author’s image

Roars

I’m grateful to mother earth for the beauty she provides. I hope we can continue protecting her waters because these are some of the most precious and beautiful sights we are destroying.

It’s a devastating thought to imagine future generations unable to enjoy what I am right now — if we continue to pollute her waters.

Her waves now become louder and stronger crashing right before me — her strength is palpable.

How small I feel as I stare into her blue eyes. When I’m in her domain and I feel her current pulling and pushing me to shore, she roars, “I am powerful!”

I hope she will continue to rise and soar — overcoming the destruction of the human hand. Perhaps some of us are like children, still playing in the sand, trying to build sand castles — oblivious to the warnings she heeds.

I hear her cries now.

Can we turn her cries into tears of joy?

May we all listen…can you hear her?

I do / Author’s image

Thank you for listening — thank you for reading and being here. When was the last time you visited the ocean?

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