Once or twice this side of life, we come across a beautiful scene, an unforgettable person, an unexplainable bliss filled moment, and/or the sinking into the life of another being’s sorrow in total empathy. Each are defining moments that we revisit when time slides into memories.
I searched for so many self-help methods, I remember being admonished for doing so. I don’t know if I was more surprised that it should have been a bad thing, or if I felt shyly embarrassed; in retrospect, maybe both. Ironically, the process served me well.
At a group therapy session, we were asked to close our eyes and visualize a place we would like to be in for a half an hour, preferably one that delighted us in some way. I still go there to fall asleep in prayer.
The pure white sand beach glistened even below the clear emerald and aquamarine water.
The see-through colors at the Araruama beach in Brazil was empty except for tall bales of wind swept salt foams.
I ran through them and heard their soft cracking like chimes and felt enveloped as if inside a translucent bubble.
I ran into the water and floated so easily as the salt held me up me like a feather.
With eyes open below the water, I found a few treasured shells, and I still have them.