Fallon and I walked into the town in the lazy hours of the morning, to find a restaurant that offered vegan options and smoothies. There was hardly a car on the road the entire time we were out. I sat in a window seat and watched a couple argue as little birds hopped around beneath their feet, picking up the crumbs which were dropped from their breakfast plates. It’s amazing to me that I board a plane and in a few hours, I can be immersed in an entirely different culture and lifestyle. It’s disorienting. It causes me to forget myself. But sometimes that kind of forgetfulness is welcome. Our every day lives have a way of trapping us and it is freeing to remove ourselves from the monotony of that familiarity.
Water is notorious for the ebb and sway of its moods. And as such, the ocean was different today. It was choppy and unpredictable. It didn’t dance with the sand and shells as much as it spit them out towards the people gathered along the beach. I felt a bit like a trespasser today when I sat in the shallow wave break to meditate. It is a personal favorite of mine to meditate in the turbulence of the waves as they break around me and into me. I use the turmoil of the sensation to force myself to look for peace and calm within myself. When your eyes are closed, the mind reacts to the sound of each wave as it roars towards you by hitting you with a surge of fear. Each wave sounds as if it may overtake you. You can use the method as a means to practice the art of surrendering.
At 3:15 today, I gave my conference speech. This convention was limited to 90 attendees and I must admit that it felt intimate to have such a small group of people before me in the audience. It felt more like a group discussion than a lesson I was giving. I feel quite at home in front of an audience. I would never have suspected that. Having been such a shy child, I would never have guessed that I’d be destined for a career in the limelight. But I love it. I love watching people’s faces as they try my information against their own opinions. I love the openness of a group when they rise to the occasion and dare to look at life through a whole new lens. And I especially love it when that new lens is my perspective. When I am talking to a group with the intention of teaching, I am in such a high vibration that time ceases to exist and I am only in the now. I do not formulate what I’m going to say. And quite often, I forget what I have said. I recognize the vibration of the group and individuals within the group. Beyond that, I let the information flow to and from me like a river. It feels so good to be inside that flow.
After I was done with the speech and with signing books, I took care of some work on the computer, went out to dinner and took a barefoot walk along the ocean shore in the dark. The black waves rolled, with their pearl white crests onto the white beach sand. It was like a scene out of a science fiction novel. The brightest star in the sky hung over the ocean, lighting a kind of pathway across the water from itself to the shore. A warm wind blew inland, carrying that classic smell of ocean. It’s impossible not to feel epic while standing in ocean wind. Every movement someone makes is made glorious by it. Wind in general makes it feel like you’re watching a real-time memoir of the person who is caught in it.
Winter (my son) got sunburnt today. He has played so hard and for so long on the beach that he is now snoring. I love it when he is this asleep. He’s so limp that you can pet him and hold his hands and press your face against his without receiving any reaction. He’s at that over active age where a calm moment with him is a blessing. Tomorrow, we are headed home. I miss my other communal family members. And I am excited to return to the fall colors as they fade into my favorite season of all… Winter.