Past the Breakers

I raced through the soft, hot sand to the waters edge, a most welcome wave of refreshment washes over my feet, bringing instant relief.

The sun sparkled and danced with the ocean, beckoning me deeper, I followed the oceans call. Inch by inch I resist the strength of the waves pushing me back to whence I came.

Like a beast it rolls towards me, mouth open to swallow me whole. I evade the hungry creature and skip past and under; for a moment I am surrounded by the silence of the deep. Stopping here I relaxed completely and gave my body over to the movement and tango of the ocean.

I begin to surface for air (my lungs weren’t made for this world) and as I do my face is tickled by the bubbling white water and remains of the wave that was. As it fizzles away into oblivion another of its friend’s raises up to avenge… under I go again and again and again until my feet could no longer feel the ocean floor.

I heard a taunting whisper in my head “There is danger out there, turn back, you wont make it, your feet can’t touch, you will sink”. I called the whispers bluff and swam head first into the huge swell. I could never swim out past the breakers with my feet still on the ground.

And finally, the waves no longer broke around me, for it was too deep. I lie on my back and felt the undulation and surge of the water, although my feet can’t touch the ground, my head is above water and I am filled with accomplishment and peace.

Maybe, just maybe, I thought. Perhaps when something pushes you back again and again, and plants thoughts of failure. If you push back, persist, face it head on and keep swimming past the struggle, there lays, a destination of Peace!

She is a sunflower

I originally wrote this for a friend and had it titled "my sunflower friend".  however reading it back through I thought that there are so many showers of sunflower women in my life. So this one's for you, to the strong women who uplift, encourage and shine, I adore you!

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Beautiful, bright and blooming – she is a sunflower

She stands tall and bold, rooted and strengthened in rich loving soil.

Her fragrance is a pungent perfume; all the other flowers want to know what water and soil she feeds from because she shines with passionate, vivacious joy. 

One does not have to see the flower to know that she is in the room, because she reeks of inner beauty.

She goes about tending her roots. She grows through the dirt and it makes her stronger and all the more beautiful.

She cares for her many precious petals, not one is missing.

She opens herself up to busy bees, curious butterflies and all the other wearied wandering souls.

She is vibrant, she is strong, she is rooted in love, she sings joy, she is faithful, she is gracious, she is beauty. In a sea of flowers she shines forth hope, she is brightest from the centre out.

She is grounded, the wind cannot move her, the storm cannot uproot her, the floods will not drown her, she fears not. For she knows the Sun is faithful and he will shine renewal day after day, morning after morning.

Beautiful, bright and blooming – she is a sunflower.

The Surfer

A glimpse of golden light peaks its head on the horizon, revealing a silky silhouette of a man. He stands still staring at the world of water that is being lit up before his eyes.  After a while he trades his warm woollies for a thick slick wetsuit; he seems to not care of his current feeling of unease, for he is fixated on what is before him.

Like a warrior ready for battle, he considers the elements. The sun shall not get in the way of his moment, so he paints his protection on to shield from the harshness of the Australian sun. As he considers this, he considers his companion. He glides his hands and caresses his board, she is smooth, no nicks, no cracks, no imperfections, a companion reliable and steady, one to stand upon.

The sweet sound of wax gliding over fibreglass fills his ears, the noise bringing a feeling of preparation; he is nearly ready to be embraced by the golden rutilant mass of water before him. And with that thought a smile of joy and expectation spreads across his face.

One leap after the other he races down the sand leaving the first footprints of the day. He relishes the feeling of the cold grainy sand wiggling its way through his toes as he races to the waters edge to take the path less travelled.

He touches his toes and reaches to the sky, wipes the sleep out of his eyes and straps himself to his sturdy navigator and lifesaver. He is ready, for the real adventure has just begun.

The Man wades out knee deep in the icy cold water; temptations to turn around and return to the safety and warmth of his bed plague his thoughts. The momentary thoughts vanish as he keeps his eyes on what is before him. He glides in with smooth speed, belly on top of board, stroke after stroke he paddles into the unknown.

As the lines of white water approach he holds all the more tightly to his board, his board goes under with him and helps him resurface from the water, it never leaves him. Wave after wave, up and down he goes, and then finally… he makes it past the breaking waves into a safe place where he rests a while.

Breath and strength regained he bobs up and down as lumps of water move towards their final destination to the shore. And then, he sees it, the thing he came for, the sacrificed sleep and warmth have all been for this moment.

The Surfer paddles to make sure he is in the right position; the wall of water grows taller as it approaches. Head down, he paddles hard and fast to join the momentum and journey of the wave. Making sure his board is pointing where he wants to go; he swiftly jumps up to his feet, he cannot lose time but trusts his companion will hold him up and so he glides down the sparkling glass wall.

He reaches the bottom of the wall and reads the oceans movements carefully, for his conclusions are crucial. He keeps his eyes ahead of him and points his body and hands where he wants to go. He pulls his body ever so close to the face of the wave as it wedges and changes shape before his eyes, holding on for the ride.

Surrounded but not surpassed, he feels terrified yet excited. He thinks of his choice of emotion; fear or joy! He quickly realises that he is only there for a short time and so he chooses Joy! The moment he does he takes in the view, placing his hands upon the transparent smooth surface of the inmost parts of the wave.

The view grows smaller and smaller, and as it does so does the man crouching low. And then with a loud triumphant growl the turbulent tunnel spits and sends him out flying. Filled with an exhilarating and unexplainable joy, he raises his hands to the heavens as he realises that this… this is what life is like.