I talk about finding balance in all things. I do this because it is a constant reminder to myself to follow my own prompting. How do we achieve this though? For me trying to figure out how I reset my energy levels or my mood wasn't difficult to figure out. The trial comes in trying to find the time to reset each day.
The ocean has always calmed my high sprung soul. The presence of trees has cleared my mind. Wind is another source of comfort to my inner self. What I am trying to say is, nature speaks to me. It has a way of engulfing my thoughts, feelings and desires and making them stop. I have a lot of chatter in my mind. My mind never stops writing. I absorb the energy around me and this triggers a response to write relentlessly. My kids know that when they hear the clickity click of the keyboard that I am releasing, sharing and giving my words to paper.
There are days that I need to reset myself though. I get too caught up in the emotion of the moment, the story being told to me, and the rush of tingling exhausting rise. When this happens I need to exit and recenter myself.
I have an odd collection in my house. I collect beach glass. They are all sorted by color. I have bowls of it through out my living room: brown, white, colored, new and old. I have sea shells that we have found along the various coast lines that we have walked. Pieces, large and small, of driftwood rest on my pictures, against my fireplace, in piles on my piano.
It wasn't until recently when walking after a particularly hard chat with a friend that I recognized that I needed to figure out a reset button for me. Where ever I go-- people talk to me. Complete strangers talk to me like we are old friends. My family is used to it. If I don't return from a bathroom trip in a few minutes they know that I am listening. It is not uncommon for me to reenter a room with my arm around a new friend. A connection exist and this has brought me great joy but along with this ability to listen to others, I also hear and feel their heartache, loss, trials, sadness, and broken souls.
Before I would take it and process it. Never giving a second thought that I could "listen" and then reset myself. I am learning that this is possible. I am seeing that by me bringing the beach inside of my home that my home is a huge refuge of safety for me. I feel the smoothness of the shiny pebbles I collect. They remind me that with each ragged emotion there is a counterpart that is smooth and soft. The drift wood reminds me that not everyone is lost. We drift at times in our lives and thats okay as long as we find our way back. The wood is remarkably light when I always think and imagine it heavier than it is. The glass is my most precious find. It represents the spectrum of color that exists in this life. It teaches me to love no matter the shape, color or size. I am reminded with the aged beach glass that the water has created this beautiful piece of art work. The glass was aged through the process of the water and the waves. The constant back and forth motion rubbing up against the fine sand on the coastline. The edges are smooth and not sharp. They don't hurt when touched.
Without knowing, I have been collecting things that I can use to reset and bring the balance back into my heart, mind and body. As I mentioned above, I returned home from an emotional chat with a friend a few months ago. I was sad. My husband is great at recognizing when I need to regroup. He suggested a walk. We walk a particular route as often as we can each week. On this day he suggested that we go to the pier for a few minutes. Normally I am in a hurry. Finnley is usually sleeping and I always want to make sure we get home soon so that Rye doesn't have to baby sit for too long. This day I listened and let him guide me to the water.
The picture before me was breathtaking. The water was calm. I felt as though I were seeing a huge painting before my eyes. I felt the tears start to well up with in. I let the water draw me to the edge of the sand. I took the first step into the sand and heard the silence. There were no waves. It was quiet. As we walked toward the water we discovered a huge log washed up on the shore line. Inside of this log was a dip. Inside the dip was sand. Laying, in the shape of a circle, was a group of small white smooth rocks. I picked them up and held them in my hand. They were warm from the sun. I left Cory on the beach and decided to spend a few minutes by myself. I held onto the pebbles and released my sadness into each one. I found comfort in this.
Continuing on our walk I felt good. I walked into my home and realized that my years of collecting from our shoreline was a way I could reset in my own home. I reentered my house with a lighter heart than when I left.
Reseting after a bad day, bad year or even after a few bad minutes is a skill that I believe is important and one that I am only recently understanding the unique roll it plays in my own life.
I think that with the essence of nature I also connect and find joy in quilting, drawing and cooking. These are all activities that lend themselves to me expressing my emotions and desires into something else. I don't have to keep everything bottled up. I am able to pour it into something else. Maybe that is why the water is so clearing for me. I see myself "pouring" myself into my family, my work, and most recently my writing.
Do you have certain things in your life that you would associate with the idea of a reset button? I am curious, if you are willing to share, what they are. Or maybe it is just one thing or a person. It could be anything that allows us to center and move forward.
Written by Sherron Watson