On occasion, we post quotes on the
Timeless Waters’ Facebook page. Sometimes they are of the inspirational sort,
with a lovely picture in the background. As can be expected, people often comment
or discuss the origin of an idea. Recently, a comment was made that a quote shouldn't have been attributed to the writer because it was actually an ancient
idea, spoken by many before him, with its roots in Buddhism.
This comment, of course, was
correct. Eckhart Tolle was not the originator of the idea; he is just one of
many voices over the course of time carrying the message to the masses. Yet, this
notion that certain spiritual revelations can be attributed to a specific
origin is an interesting one, and one that reminded me of a recent experience.
I was packing up for a trip to the
beach, an annual event I now share with my two sons. My perspective was one of
heaviness from the previous few months; months in which I felt the culmination
of years of working hard and pushing forward to meet all the demands and
responsibilities in front of me. But now I felt the stirring of possibilities,
or perhaps the recreating of a life that was no longer serving me.
As I walked onto the plane, for
some reason the title of a book I had seen countless times as a child, tucked
away on my mother’s bookshelf, came to mind: Gift From the Sea. I pondered the words and then wondered to
myself, what gifts would the sea reveal to me? Filled with the expectation of
these gifts, I was not let down. My gift was a subtle shift in consciousness; a
shift that, with intention, could create a new trajectory for my life.
Upon returning from our stay at the
beach, I decided I should, perhaps, read that little book with the title that
had served as my meditative inspiration. The first smile crossed my lips while
reading Ann Morrow Lindbergh’s introduction:
“Besides,
not all women are searching for a new pattern of living, or want a contemplative
corner of their own…(Yet) in varying settings and under different forms, I
discovered that many women, and men, too, were grappling with essentially the
same questions as I…Even those whose lives had appeared to be ticking
imperturbably under their smiling clock faces were often trying, like me, to
evolve another rhythm with more creative pauses in it, more adjustment to their
individual needs and new and more alive relationships to themselves as well as
others.”
What I read on the pages, while
couched by Lindbergh in the culture and expectations of 1955, described the
same conundrum I too had come to face. And just as Lindbergh collected shells
and wrote what they represented to her as she sought the path to a more inward
life, I too collected shells after my days of meditation and journaling by the
sea. Only shell fragments did I gather, and they sit next to me as I write this
in a small, square, glass vase, serving as a reminder that only I can pick up
the pieces of my life when I begin to crumble.
Many Blessings,
Sheryl
