I’ve been thinking about shorelines lately. Last week, in utter exhaustion, in the midst of a virus, I took myself down to the beach, threw a towel on the ground, and melded into the sand. Sun beaming down on me, I gave thanks for that shoreline, as I listened to the waves, taking in the calm. Sinking in, I asked the Earth to take it all.
I could feel her doing that, just taking it in, no hesitation. She could handle all of me, like no problem. The physically sick part, the exhausted single mom part, the CPTSDing survivor part, the find the magic in it all part, the let’s just sing and laugh the way through the hard times part, the over reactive dramatic anxious part, the wounded healer part. She just took it all from me and went into transmutation mode.
I thought about how this particular shoreline has been there for me for almost 3.5 years. My daughter and I had gone to Florida just with flip-flops, bathing suits, some shorts, jeans and t-shirts for a couple of weeks. We had no idea we’d be staying. Yet a turn of life events led us to stay and seek refuge here. And this shoreline took us in and loved us up.
Sometimes, suddenly, you have to leave shorelines you love, ones you’re deeply attached to, that feel like an integral part of your soul. Sometimes something happens, that has your entire shoreline disappear, out of nowhere, in a moment, overnight, unexpectedly it’s all gone.
And sometimes there’s no shoreline in sight anywhere, and you have to figure out how to create some semblance of one in your imagination. And sometimes a hurricane comes in and creates a totally new shoreline that feels like quicksand. I think most of us are feeling that way right now…
When these landscape shifts happen, you are left with some choices to make about how to be with the brand-new scenery.
No question, that’s happening. The amazing news is that in all this radical change, we can be and become the shorelines we need.
Amidst the chaos in the world, the fear, the panic, the threats, the attacks, whatever external circumstances we’re dealing with, we can be those soft shorelines for one another, right now and going forward, with whatever new scene comes our way.
We can gather and support one another with the ever-dynamic internal and external landscapes.
We can be for each other what this sandy coastal beach was for me — a place where you can land, sit, and be held, exactly where you are, and feel loved. We in the LGBTQ community are landscape shape-shifters together. We always have been.
How are you doing in these times? And does this invitation or reminder strike a chord for you?
Leave Your Comment