Remembering

I see the ocean; clear, calm and sparkling, the sunlight on its mildly rippling surface.

The air is soft, gentle, sweet smelling.

The breeze caresses my face, softly touching my cheeks.

It is cool and gentle. It feels like angel kisses. The breeze surrounds and envelops my body. I gaze into the distance and see a tiny speck, so small it appears a toy. I realize it is a sailboat. From this distance it moves almost imperceptibly. Overhead a noisy gull flies by, announcing his presence. "Make way, make way, coming through, coming through," he cries in gullspeak.

This view, this ocean, this air, this sunlight . . . heals. I breathe it in slowly and deeply, and it enters my being, silky and quiet. I exhale pain, fear, insecurity, conflict, discord. My body tingles, feeling the healing energy enter its cells. I vibrate with well-being, present fully, floating in joy.

Later, walking down the shoreline, my head down, I think of not too much. My feet make prints in the wet sand, only to disappear with the receding water. I see other marks, recording the steps of three-toed sand birds, on a mission, giving new meaning to the phrase "the early bird gets the worm"… or, in this instance, the hermit crab. My lips curve upward in an inward sort of smile. I like who I am on this beach.

At home, afterward, my mind returns to see the ocean again; to feel the breeze again, to smell the salt air again. I carry this image; the sights, the sounds, the smells, with me. Encased in the image is the healing that is mine. I can call upon it at any time. It waits for me, ready to step in and do its work.

I breathe in this apartment air, and feel again the sweet ocean air entering cooly into my lungs. Outside my window, I see the street, the cars, I hear the city birds. I have only to close my eyes to see again the water, the sky, the gulls, and the sail boats. I have only to inhale and smell again the salty ocean air. I have only to listen and hear again the sounds of the waves, the birds, even the air itself.

It is all fixed in my memory; the elixir, the balm, the medicine. Not prescribed by any practitioner, but nature's gift to my soul. Better than pill, ointment, salve. Take as prescribed, on full stomach or empty, morning, noon or night. Be sure to use all the doses, and know that this medicine never needs a refill, for it is always there, ready to be used, stored up in your mind.

By Marielle Wachsmith

- 14 - Edition 14, August 2003