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When the sea saw into my soul



There is something about the turbulent sea waters, crashing and breaking in waves on the multitude of rocks lining the shore. The ebb and flow of the water, albeit choppy, has quite the opposite effect on me – it calms me and soothes my frayed nerves. The salt in the air acts like a sponge, absorbing the grime of drudgery from myself, leaving my pores empty yet alive. With the sea spread out in the front, it asks me nothing as it lets me be. I am a mere being, watching, unable to fathom this unfathomable being, simply a spectator of no consequence.

It accepts me as my mediocre self, the average person, not expecting anything in return. The camaraderie we share is unique yet commonly common. The sea holds no prisoners and frees me from my derelict soul.

It gives me no direction, only hope that change is meant to be. That I cannot stop its flow nor the flow of life. I am to be as it is to be. It tells me no tales, makes no promises. But it takes from me what I must give in order to relive, rethink and to rejuvenate my mortal self.

There is something about the sea, dangerously uncertain, yet uplifting.

I can't say the sea is my friend. No, it's definitely not my friend yet it is very accepting. I head out to the seafront every chance I get. I find it very alive, different each time and yet, its rhythmic routine lets me collect my thoughts and brings calm to my chaotic life.


Do you visit the sea too? What is your reason to do so? Tell me all. 

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