I love the cadence of life. The tide as it is. This morning walking to my office, the sun shone brightly over the cherry blossoms on campus. Gentle hellos, from passing walkers and cyclists. The weekend soccer enthusiasts still bleary from last night's soju get ready for their workout away from work and responsibility. The campus empty of cars, of students.
The tide is out. But does not smell of stinky decaying fish left stranded. A pureness enters my soul and breathes gently into my heart, soothing and refreshing in the same instant. The places I love the most have tides; times when there is so much water, so much stimulation, I feel as if I'm drowning. And just as I take my last breathe, I touch the bottom and push up to the surface, noting that the landscape has changed, receded. The gentle, inexorable movement buried in all of life.
My breath goes in and out. My day, my night. Others, self. Highs, lows. Sometimes rocky and furious. Other times slow and lethargic. Moments filtered through my senses to value the passion and stillness. To float, to glide, to hiccup, to feel. Nothing and everything.
