Friday, 16 August 2013


Stormy weather seems to be the universal mood; in the world and in our hearts …

So we are all set on “taking up arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing ending them”…
I would be first in the lists – sword in hand – but I saw something that made me rethink the “opposing” bit.

On Saturday there was a huge storm here, and the seagulls clustered on the pier trying to escape from the wind and the waves. The vicious wind tumbled them mercilessly about, and they sat and shivered miserably.
They aligned themselves as best they could to minimize the surface they offered to the razor storm, occasionally uttering plaintive and indignant squawks.

Now seagulls are curious things: they live off the sea, on the sea, without ever being of the sea.
They dart out over the waves, scoop up fish, and run; hardly getting ever their feet wet.
They scream like Masters, but they steal crumbs like petty thieves.

There is a cormorant here, who fishes off the quay. Long necked and sinuous, black as ink. Every day I see him dive right into the waves and rise out of the sea like a black angel dripping light, with struggling fish in his beak.

So on Saturday, the seagulls were on land, fearful and frantic; but the cormorant was in the sea.
He was riding those wild waves, rising and falling, tranquil because he knew the water was not moving.
It was being moved through.
There was no high, no low.
Only the sea on which he rested.

He knows because he lives not only from the sea, skimming a surface.
He dives in, he lives that moment of sudden silent silver ecstasy in which his wings move him through something other than air.
He becomes something else.
Something more.

He is a thing of the two worlds, and he knows that wind and fury cannot disturb the deep.
So the great wave comes and the water does not resist, the energy passes and the water remains.
Exactly where and as it was.

So must we be.
Our changes must come from within, self-willed from our spirit’s Ocean.
Fear of the World’s wind and storms can ruffle our surface, yes, but we must choose.
Do we huddle in helpless fear, or ride the changes with serenity?
Are we prey to the wind to be tumbled, or do we trust in our own hearts?

Do not fear change, do not huddle in your ruffled feathers.
Rather than scoop crumbs from the sea, dive deep.
Welcome yourself to a new world.
We are not separate from anything: we are everything.

Embrace yourself, cradle your heart on the breast of that surging Ocean.
We were made to ride those changes and to rise – again and again – on splendid wings.


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