An ocean of NOW
It was like the ocean laid a welcoming mat, inviting me to get my feet wet, immerse myself in the NOW.
We chase the magic. The moments and spaces in which we feel present, connected and at peace.
Our escape to Cape Conran for a week was one such attempt at finding magic again. In between two Melbourne lockdowns, still carrying our fears and the heavy sense of uncertainty, we packed our bags and drove out of town.
It felt like such a privilege, such a special gift to be able see, smell and hear ocean. It had been months since I laid my eyes on the water. After having spent what seemed like endless days and nights within the walls of my home, my eyes could finally relax and stretch out to the horizon. The winter air was so crisp and salty clean, every inhale felt like a first new breath. My ears seemed relieved at the rhythm of the rolling waves, mesmerising and inviting.
It dawned on me how easy it was in the last few months to become lost in despair, fear and the uncertainty the pandemic brought. How quickly thought patterns and habits become self imposed constraints that are difficult to recognise let alone unshackle from. How quickly I lost my will, motivation and became consumed by worry.
Looking out at the ocean at that moment, I realised though, that the last few months, as difficult as they were, were part of a journey. And here right now, in front on the magnificence of the ocean, was a moment of pause. A chance, an opportunity to contextualise, to reconsider what was important. If the pandemic taught me anything, it is that nothing can be taken for granted. For all our intellectual prowess as a human race, nature has once again reminded us of our place and that all we truly have is the present moment. I can plan my future in detail, stress and worry about the past decisions and future implications, I can meticulously design my life. And while I do, not only do hundreds of NOW pass me by, my backbreaking efforts are futile as life has a way of workings things out despite me. Seneca’s reflections in One the Brevity of Life seem apt: “…how much was wasted in pointless grief, foolish joy, greedy desire, and social amusements-how little of your own was left to you. You will realise you are dying before your time!”.
It feels like my whole existence collapses into this one moment. There is something to be said about how the ocean and being in its presence , can help reveal and dismantle mental constructs, expose them for what they are - our own creations. The drumming of ocean waves onto the shore, like an ancient primal calling out to me, to wake with intentionality, to be present in this life fully. I humbly accept the message as a gift to be treasured.