I love to walk along the very edge of our country, developing a rhythm along the hard, wet sand. It takes me to the ‘in-between’, where I’m not fully on land, but not fully in water. The ‘in-between’ is a place to wrestle with my thoughts. It’s where the forces of nature fight each day. The current meets the shore and picks up tonnes of sand, transporting it easily to another bay where it reshapes the landscape. It gives and takes. Gives and takes. Gives and takes.
As I stop and face the ocean from the safety of land, the wave pulls back and makes me dig my toes into the sand. It erodes my foothold easily, forcing me to decide whether to join it or step back. The ‘in-between’ calls me to action.
I’m reminded that my walk today is just that. I lay footprints on the sand, little indentations that leave a print of me, but only for a day. There is no road, no track, no path mapped out. I’m here for today. The ‘in-between’ is always shifting, changing. It will last until the moon beckons the sea and it brings with it new sands, new shapes and a new bay for another day.
I come away much clearer, knowing that I can surrender to something or just step back, knowing my landscape will constantly change with give and take. And I can make a new path again tomorrow.