There are days when I just want to get in my car, find a road that leads to the coast, and not look back. Today is one of those days.
Somebody pretty brilliant once said, “The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears, or the sea.”
I’m tired of sweat and tears today. Today, I just want the sea. I want to stand at the edge of the ocean and feel the grainy instability of sand beneath my feet. I want to feel the water wash over my toes, covering them in foam and sea shells. I want to watch an orange ball of fire sink steadily on an open canvas of blue and purple. I want the ocean to remind me, in that way that only the ocean can, how small I am.
I feel pretty big today. I feel pretty important. I feel like the fate of the world might actually rest on my shoulders. I know there are people in the world who enjoy this feeling. I am not one of them. Mostly because I know it’s a lie. I don’t underestimate my insignificance. I am not big or important. I am not the master of my fate or captain of my soul. I know this in theory, but the actual practice of it is far harder than the theory would allude to.
I just want to curl up in a tiny corner of the huge world that all rests entirely in God’s hands today…and feel small.