The sound of water says what I think.
There’s this feeling I get whenever I walk onto a beach at night time. The darkness everywhere, the unspoken strength and mystery of the strong ocean ahead of me, the stillness of the air, and the intimacy felt when I’m sitting on the sand. The inevitable introspective thoughts immediately take up residence in my head the moment my feet hit the cool sand. It’s as if I’ve opened up a door to a different world. I’ve left my reality for only a bit and everything from my everyday life is no longer apart of this temporary world I’ve stumbled into.
There’s a reason I love the beach so much. Because the feeling I described above cannot be replicated, for me, by anything else. No matter if I go to the beach for a day, a weekend or a whole week, I try to save at least 30 minutes of my trip to step down to where the ocean meets the sand after the sun has gone down.
I’ve sat with friends, with family, with my boyfriend and at times just myself. No matter what, there’s always meaningful conversation and deep thoughts that I hadn’t been able to find before.
I’ve found inspiration, grew closer in faith, came to realizations, wondered endlessly and learned a lot about myself by the water. I’ve also argued, been blue with sadness, made mistakes, ignored true happiness, pushed people away, and built walls by the water.
No matter what it’s been about, no matter who I’m with or if I’m alone, the water has always been able to tell me what I was already thinking–no matter if I was aware of it or not.