Be An Ocean

"Let your waves crash down on me and take me away."
—Yellowcard, Ocean Avenue

When I step into the ocean, the water doesn't avoid my feet,
         not even my interestingly long, brown toes that dig deeply into the soothing sand,
                and cling to the moving grit that makes no promises, but feels so loyal.
It doesn't grade me before I open my mouth.
As a matter of fact, it is attracted to me because I am another living thing.
He just moves to greet me, easily,
Feeling my longing for the waters to drown the disappointment of untouched and lonely skin.

I just need a little tenderness.

When I step into the coolness of the water, the ocean rushes up to me.
It doesn't swirl off in the distance, judging me without talking to me,
       checking to see if I'm a "dime piece,"
               or silently retreating to go to the fairer-skinned, thin women with long hair.

The ocean comes to see about me, and rushes to do so.  The ocean accepts my love.

I welcome him, embrace him by inching further out into his body.
Wet fingers reach out to me, and I do my best to quickly drink in the feeling
        of a million drops of water splashing against me.
Strong legs are happily startled, just to feel again, and the water touches the hem of my garment.

I need a healing that only comes from being loved, and maybe the ocean needs a healing, too.

The overspray pops up onto my skirt, turning the orange into a dark red, as if my garment is living and breathing its own sunset and making its slow fade to the darkest night.

I come here because I am human, and everyday my fifth sense of touch
         is left to wonder if she is dead. 

Less compassionate folk believe only certain curves deserve caresses, attention, affection.  They look past you as if you are less than nothing.  Only swaying hips and well done weaves, bottom implants, and small waists can depend on appreciation, depend on physical touch when they want it. Those pushed to the side who don't often make the cut are left to love themselves and justify being ignored because we refuse to conform to a puny fantasy.

My hips and dips and curves say I'm desperate, though my mouth does not. 
People think I should take what I can get because I am not a tiny size.
But, here I stand, strong and whole, enjoying the ocean.

Why are you better than the ocean?  Why do you reject love in search of quick fixes?
You may end up settling because the ocean waves came your way and you jumped out of the water.

Be an ocean.  Accept love when it comes to you.

At Last

There are alternative ways to live.  Really.  We can choose to step outside of ourselves and see the behaviors and desires and habits that fill space in our lives, but do nothing for us or for the world.  If you are primarily angry, you can let go of it.  Anger is not a personality trait.  No one is born with anger.  You can let it go.

You are not a thief.  Really.  You are a person who has convinced him or herself that there is nothing else out there but what you take.  You've locked yourself into believing you are stuck in a depraved place and it can be no worse... so you take and take and take, never considering that you might be stealing to fill that empty place that some how only manages to fill with thick, sticky pain.  You can let it go.

You are not mean as a snake, at least your essence is not mean.  You've behaved as if you are not happy unless everyone else isn't, and you've decided that it is your role to get everyone told.  You slay folk daily with your mouth and take great pride in the fact that you are the best at what you do.  Often you notice that meanness carves a lonely place, and now you feel stuck in the habit of being so volatile.  And, while you are fixing everyone else, you haven't spent one iota on getting your life right.  That's alright.  Let it go!  Even if you are awkward in approaching your relationships at first in a new way, you can give yourself permission to be who you really are.

This is my mantra: I can let it go.   Sadness is not my uniform.  Depression is not my hairdo, nor my favorite shoes.   I don't have to allow reflex or inertia form how things are in my life.  I certainly will never assume the way things are are the way they will always be. 

I sing "At Last" by Etta James not to announce a new relationship, but for all of us that realize it isn't about singleness, or togetherness; it's not about having much or nothing at all; not even about our failures or our successes.  If it has been about all the things that hang on you, but not about your spirit or your heart, let it go!  It's not about all those things we rehearse and wish for, but won't stick to us as we wish or crave. Today, I can happily say that I am letting go!  

At last, I am that I am, and that is abundantly more than enough.  I'm free.

Reconciling Act:  Make a decision today to love yourself and others better. At last, you can be authentic.  Treat people with kindness, and walk humbly with a gracious God.