I cannot but think of my own personal losses...the destruction of myelin that once protected my nerves and allowed my body to function as it should...the desecration of my body through the disease process of Multiple Sclerosis. In between the heights of love and joy I have been spending significant time grieving this past year and a half...awakening more and more to the fullness of my humanity...to the engaged experience of living. I uploaded my photos from our family vacation and over and over again I am drawn to a series I captured at around 5am...(one of the oddities of MS for me is that I wake up very early-sometimes 4, or 4:30 even though I'm always tired!!!) The first photo reminds me of the story of the second day of creation as recorded in the Torah-the separation of the waters from the waters...I can imagine the first Divine viewing of the seas below and sky above.
In my immediate experience, rolling clouds and waves became more distinct with the continuous emergence of light filling the sky, a blush of pink illuminating the ocean, the water and light kissing the shore.
What I see above/beneath/through each image is a powerful force beyond my small self that certainly can destroy, like a wave erasing what had moments before been etched into the sand, yet with each braking wave a new line, (a new story?) is carved into the beach. Destruction becomes Creation.
And so it is with my life...a loss opens me to new ways of being, of seeing, of listening...deepens love and appreciation for friends, for family, for the beauty of Creation, for Divine presence. I am walking more now each day in the mornings when the temperature is relatively cool. I can successfully walk about a mile now...It is an amazing feeling! My voice is mostly back to normal, except when I am hot or fatigued. Gordon and I keep wondering how much of my improved health is medication? How much is simply time? Or is it the blessing of summer light stimulating my brain? Probably a combination of all of the above... but I really love the thought that light has the capacity to heal. I was not able to go on the beach at our condo...it was way too hot and far for me to walk the width of the beach to the waters edge. I truly enjoyed our balcony for the first time in 30 years.
Not that I hadn't always admired the view, but it was so different for me this time. I was fully present to the experience of seeing from the height of the eighteenth floor, with and without my camera, because that was my connection to sea, sky and sand. I did not think my feet would have an opportunity to sink into the sand and water. (Until this very moment as I am writing this entry, I never thought about the significance of our apartment being on the 18th floor...the number 18 is written with the letters chet and yod in Hebrew...it spells chai...life. Wow!)
On a slightly cooler and gently breezy day, we took a little boat ride out to Assateague...and I was able to step carefully off the gangplank and onto the sand...a joy I did not believe to be attainable for me this summer...but it was!
I leave you with this last image...perhaps not an aesthetically pleasing photo, but one of deep significance for me.
Gentle steps my friends,