She is wild, unpredictable, but she calls to me and her voice is soothing and sweet among the crashing waves. She sings to me, sometimes it feels only me. Yet I know she is singing to any and all who dare to approach her.
I miss the ocean. It’s lovely to have water nearby, but it’s not quite the same. Of course it’s not just any lake. But the breeze doesn’t bring the lake’s scent to my scrunched up nose; I cannot swim with wild dolphins in a lake.
Sometimes the sea is playful. Other times she is demure; still others she is defiant, curious, lustful. Some days, she is rather tedious. Nothing happening, at least not that breaks the surface.
Always, she demands respect (always a lesson I should keep close to heart). She sings, whispers, screams, challenges, “Shall we play today? Will you step up, run up, can you handle me?”
I feel a bit hesitant. I am not strong enough to take on the sea, am I? It is lonely in the early hours of the morning. It is only me and a few stray creatures wandering about. I was told there would be much more vibrant life, but it is still asleep, I think.
I hope to catch a glimpse of something beautiful and rare in the water, but anything that lurks below is denying me the satisfaction. Beauty and mystery shows itself on its own terms, after all.
What she offers is alluring, but it is not a serene existence. I am aware her gifts come with a catch. She is as dangerous as she is awe inspiring. Am I willing to pay the price? Am I willing to mitigate the risk with my own caution? She accepts my counteroffer, such as it is, and tells me I am good enough for her.
Because I have found a home within her arms. I’ve created my own little bubble, my safe place. Whatever chaos reigns about me, I can always retreat to where I feel me.. Where I can let my inner demons prance about, with the knowledge that I can cast them aside for at least a short while.