Written in Sand

I wrote my name in the sand the last time I visited the Pacific Ocean. Not on paper. Not in ink. Not in a place meant to keep it.

I wrote it where it would be taken.

Angelface Mystic.

My letters are written uneven and were shaped by hand and breath. I was not concerned with perfection--only with my presence.

There is something about writing your name into the earth that returns me to myself.

My feet were pressing into the ground. The breezy air was moving in and out of my body and all around my body. There was a quiet noticing....I am here.

And then, just as quietly--I know that my name written in the sand will not remain. The tide will come or the wind. Or perhaps footsteps not my own will erase it. And it will be gone.

I did not feel the need to protect it or rewrite it. Or take anything from its presence for a moment in time.

Only to witness: I can place my name into the world without asking it to stay.

I can belong without gripping.

I can be without needing to be held in place.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Pause.

The sand held my name just long enough for me to feel it. And perhaps that is all anything ever asks of us. To be here fully here while we are here.

Aho.

Amen.

P.S. Where in your life are you being invited to let something be true...without needing it to last?

Have you ever created something just to feel it...and then let it go?

What is something you are learning to release with love, not force?

What is present for you right now? Inhale. Exhale. Pause.

I would love to hear what is moving in you...your comments and reflections are always welcome here.