It comes in waves.
They wash the grit and dust of life away; so many are these rocks turned into grains that they seem to dissolve into the great blue abyss. Yet they are all there, whether they are indeed whittled down to their separate atoms or remain solid and whole and sink to the bottom of the depths. They are there. The waves pull them and push them, drawing them into the soul and gently, sometimes fiercely, pushing them back out again. They can be hurtful, or they can provide solace.. a place to rest after being lost in one’s own heart.
It is good to splendor in this partnership. The hurt and the healing, neither one nor the other can control it. But there is harmony in this balance, between what is difficult and what is right. And as the ocean changes, calms, rises and falls, the sands—in their seemingly small way—change it too.
Is the ocean scarred by sands, impure for its association with the dirt of the earth? No. Between the boundless bubbles and grounded darkness, through bonds and brokenness, together they have laid the foundation for life.
And in nurturing the beings of the world, they manifest the divine.
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