Written on March 26, 2018, by the Mediterranean Sea in Netanya, Israel

Breathe in

Breathe out

I have read that it is healthier to live by the sea.  You breathe better.  And I certainly drift into a dreamless sleep, and then drift back into consciousness.  It is the most wonderful sleep, and I am very grateful for it.

Sleep without care, sleep without worry.  And today the gentle wind made my sleep by the sea all the better.

I did not agonize over this being the last time I’ll sleep beside you.  No trauma over having to leave your soothing gentleness and the state of sleeping grace you somehow transport me into.

I came to Israel — and I found …. peace and simple gratitude for how you make me feel by purifying my mind.

Lihitraot.  (Goodbye)  Ahava. (Love)

Breathe in

Breathe out

Namaste

Written on March 25, 2018, next to the Mediterranean Sea in Netanya, Israel.

Breathe in

Breathe out

I was sorry to leave you last time all grayish and wettish.  Today, when I saw the sun and the bluegreen of your water and the solid blue of the sky, I felt happy to think of saying goodbye to a more normal you.  You see, I’ll be away a long time now — maybe forever.

But, being close to you today, I can tell you are all riled up.  The sun is warm, but the wind is strong and cold.

Are you telling me we need to accept what we cannot change, what we cannot control?  Perhaps, but that’s probably anthropomorphizing  just a bit too much by putting meaning where there is only chance.

Your voice is strong today too as the white waves roll in.  No delicacy in you today.  Is there some message in that?  Prepare for the unpredictable maybe?  Or, are you just pleasing yourself and not caring about connecting?

Ah, you are most likely simply responding to subtleties in nature I have no understanding of.

Just be you, and I’ll appreciate you as you are and thank you anyway for being with me these past 3 months.  For sure I’ll miss you, but not expect you to miss me.  We are kin, but we are not one.

While I walk, I wonder why the noise of the sea soothes me, but the noise of a crying child or a motor bike revving up drives me nuts.

Then, as I pondered why I am so sure there is a mind/body connection, and less clear about communication between humans and nature, chance brought a friend onto the same path by the sea as I was on.

We sat by you for quite a long time, watching the sunset and animatedly discussing a wide range of topics.  You faded into an accompaniment to two humans speaking the same language enjoying being together by the sea.  Diversity between humans and nature has beauty, but so does warm conversation between two humans, accompanied by nature.

Breathe in

Breathe out

Namaste

 

Written on March 24, 2018, near the Mediterranean Sea in Netanya, Israel.

Breathe in

Breathe out

Are you angry at me because I’m leaving Israel in a matter of days?  Your waves are moving fast and loudly.  The sky is a cloudy mass.  The sun peeks in and out.

I came today with a bittersweet sense of our time together running out.  Over these past 3 months, I have seen you in many moods — both mine and yours.  Your company has meant a great deal to me.  We are certainly not equal, but we are both offspring of Mother Nature.  That makes us kin.

Since I cannot take you with me, I will only take the sense of you.  Will that be enough?  It will, after all, have to do.  But I will miss you terribly even so.

Breathe in

Breathe out

Namaste

Written on March 20, 2018, by the Mediterranean Sea in Netanya, Israel

Breathe in

Breathe out

I sit by you as day is about to turn into night.  And then I think about tomorrow night when I will be totally engulfed by stars in a place that has very little light pollution to diminish the impact.

I remember the feeling best from long ago when I went hiking in the Sinai, slept outside, and woke up in the middle of the night with endless stars as far as I could see.  Hopefully, I will have that feeling again in Mitzpe Ramon in the Negev desert.

The sea touching the earth.  The stars touching the heavens.  And then, in between, are we humans who just can’t seem to figure it all out.

There are humans.  And there is nature.  We are somehow connected.  But, oh, how better off nature would be without humans.

Breathe in

Breathe out

Namaste

 

Written by the Mediterranean Sea on March 17, 2018, in Netanya, Israel.

Breathe in

Breathe out

Happy St. Patrick’s Day.

I almost didn’t come to you today.  Shabbat (Saturday) is a busier day by the sea, and I prefer having you to myself.  But, as sunset approached, I heard you calling me to see just how beautiful you would be at this sunset.  How I appreciate your color, the clouds crowding you, and the sound of the waves lapping the shore.

Yes, endings are important too.

I am facing the ending soon of my 3 months in Israel and who I am now compared to how I was almost 3 months ago.  As well as the ending of curling within the snake-like sculpture to take in this view of you.  And the ending of visiting you in only a 10 minute slow walk from where I live.

Slowly, quietly, subtly, the sun melds with the gray.  Ah, now your ball is no longer visible, but the clouds still keep your beauty and color a bit longer.  And you continue to light up the sky even as you die this day.

I like your ending — would that my ending will also brighten the sky as I say goodbye.

Breathe in

Breathe out

Namaste

 

 

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