Seashells. Hhmmm. I love seashells. But more than just loving seashells, it’s the act of looking for them that I really love. I feel like I am in as meditative of a state as I know how to be. My mind is effortlessly and completely clear and empty. Nothing gnaws at or distracts me. My breath is deep and I feel centered and grounded. Of course I’m looking for something, that one special, outstanding shell; but it’s not like I have to find it right here and right now. Now it wouldn’t be much fun if I was looking in a place where none were to be found; but there’s no insistent energy to the looking-for process – it just flows softly and slowly as I walk, each step a breath, each kneeling down a prayer.
I love how my eyes determinedly scan the sand and then come into clear focus upon finding outstanding shapes or unusual colors that jump out at me. I especially love the bright pinks and purples or the shapes and kinds I’ve never seen before. I’m amazed by how many spirals are naturally designed within these incredibly detailed structures. There’s plenty of all of those here. I love crouching down in the sand where there’s a whole collection of broken bits of coral and shell and pockets of tidal water that holds secret treasures. It’s the act of the finding that’s the exquisite delight for me. I get so very excited – like the innocent joy of a child – when I find oooh, this really pretty one or oooh, that really colorful one. I’m exuberant with this simple act!
So that’s what I did today. I looked for seashells. And I found some! I found some! They’re really, really cool. The finest collection of seashells now sits as a growing altar on the bench of my sweet lanai. Looking at them doubles my pleasure of having found them. Ohsure, I’ll bring some home, but I’ll leave just as many behind. While I’d like to put the most special ones of all that I’ve found in the center, I can’t. They’re inside and protected. How I will keep them protected all the way between here and home is a mystery, but I’ll do my best!
They’re my favorite shells of all to find. And today – after a torrential overnight and early morning rain storm – was the perfect time to find them. And when I did, I really did exclaim out in excitement! Over and over. That is, right before I gingerly leaned over and cautiously removed them from the sand. There they were, small parts of them peeking out of the sand or wholly visible, here, there and everywhere. They amaze me really, with their perfect roundness and symmetry (I’m no mathematician, but I know sacred geometry when I see it!). God, I love symmetry; and it seems nature does, too. They astound me with their incredibly intricate, complex even, designs; their delicate fragility; and their inherent strength to withstand the unrelenting power of surging water. Force annihilates them, yet they live in harmony with the power and constancy of the sea.
I found two of the very smallest ones I’ve ever seen and a live one, too, for the first time ever – it was dark, dark green, almost black and kinda fuzzy. The fuzzy-ness especially surprised me and made me giggle. I slipped it right back into the sand and went on to pick up a white one; white indicating that it’s already empty of life. Yes, as much as I love these beautiful collections of shells strewn all along the shore, the truth is they’re a graveyard of abandoned homes of the tiny, crab-like creatures who’ve once lived in them and now have either met their demise or moved on to other quarters.
Ohhh, how I love seashells at the seashore!