Healing through writing: 30 Jan 2014
Prompt: think about and then
describe a space or place you would go to for healing. It can be a real
location, or make one up. Get detailed about what it looks like, feels like,
sounds like. Are you there alone or with others? How does being in this
space/place make you feel? What qualities are healing? Have fun, let it flow,
and write in whatever form and for however long feels good to you!
The
place I would go to is real – a beach in Northern Spain that is reached by
scrambling down a path through a pine forest.
The beach is long and golden, with roaring breakers of surf. I have been there twice, once with my Spanish
friend Rosalina (though I actually don’t remember that visit) and once alone
when I walked several miles there from the nearest village whilst she was doing
a course for the day. It wasn’t the
beach she had directed me to, I took a wrong turning and just kept going for
some reason J
The
sun is hot on my skin as I take off my clothes and wade into the warm
water. I can feel the sand slithering
around under my feet as the waves suck the grains from under me, then the
energy of the surging tide as the water comes rushing back in around my feet,
ankles, calves and up over my knees. I
walk a little deeper so the water remains covering my lower legs, and is now
swirling up and down to my waist. I
shiver, the water feels colder now as it touches the dry skin, though my legs
are tingling and feel warm as I wriggle my feet deep into the shifting
sand. I hear gulls calling above me and
the sound of children shouting and laughing a long way off down the beach. This stretch is deserted so I have the luxury
of solitude whilst feeling distantly connected to other people. I let my hands dangle in the water – the tide
is coming in so the water is deeper now, though I haven’t moved from my
place. I watch my hands float on the
surface, bob up and down with the movement of the sea and I find myself musing
on how alien they look in this environment.
Hands are not really designed for catching, holding, moving water – I am
making no impression on the ocean at all as I stir the water, only when I lift
my hands up and out, then drop them in again, making splashes, do I see a minor
impact. I splash more, dragging bubbles
of air deep under the surface and watching them rise and explode at the surface. They tickle when they touch my legs under the
water and suddenly I want to swim and splash and play so I launch myself
forward into the next wave and kick strongly.
And I can feel the power of the water around me, tugging and pulling at
me, yet also supporting me. Such a
dichotomy – I am supported because I choose to be so, if I stop moving or hold
my body differently, I will sink beneath the water. Yet if I truly relax, I will float. And the motion of being rocked washes away my
worries, my fears, heals the places within me that cannot be touched any other
way. And I am reminded of the quote by
Isak Dinesen, “The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea.” Y
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| This is my place :-) |
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