I love walking by the sea, I always have. It’s a gift, being able to look at it every day and no two days are the same. From calm sunny days where the sea is like blue glass to the craziest stormy days where the water is a grey brown churning washing machine, where the sound of rolling stones smashing again each other is even louder than the crashing waves.
I am sorry to admit though that, for a while now, I’ve been wasting it, wasting all that savage beauty. Whilst my body has been there, my mind hasn’t. Quite frankly, I could have been anywhere, locked as I was in a seemingly ended cycle of whys, playing endless variations of scenarios over in my head, trying to find the one that would make everything that has gone on make some sort of sense. All those days of sparkling seas and rolling clouds wasted as I bashed my head against every metaphorical wall going. The answer is simple but not one I wanted to face up to, the reason nothing makes sense because there isn’t any. Only the absense of sense, I’ve been trying to understand things that work on an entirely different type of logic that I cannot grasp. Two plus two equals blue, then two plus two equals seahorse, then two plus two equals zed, then every now and then it equals four.
It’s a shame that human beings forget even the hardest lessons to learn and one of the hardest is hanging framed in the hallway in my home. A version of the serenity prayer most popular for its use by Alcoholics Anonymous but useful for so many occasion. In my version though the higher power is Bod, a 1970s children’s television character. I have to come to term with the idea that I have in my head been trying to find ways to change that which cannot be changed and out of desperation my wisdom had gone off (to take a whiz perhaps?) I am trying to get it back and accept the stuff I can’t change but I’m a stubborn bugger and it has taken a long time to sink in but I must or all this beauty and magic is wasted on me.