On my surfboard
Sometimes we don’t quite make it onto the surfboard.
Not near the sea.
Sometimes we are stuck imprisoned by the fear in our minds that keeps us locked in four walls.
Today I made sure it was not that kind of day.
It took until almost sun down but I made it.
I made it onto the shore.
Feet in the sand.
Mind opened by the sea breeze.
The four walls now behind me.
It was the shops that was the hardest just prior.
You see you never know what’s truly lurking beneath a smile.
I bought chocolate biscuits and almond milk with a tear in my eye, put them in my bag and left to the beach.
Yesterday I did the thing that I feared.
It seems such a silly small thing but not for me.
I went where the monsters live.
I went there alone.
So today it was a little harder.
I was all raw inside, the cracked edges still fresh.
Today it was a little harder to get to the beach but I did it.
Writing has become my closest friend as I build a new world around me.
It catches the tears when my husband doesn’t.
When I’m out on my own really testing myself.
Really going some place new within.
It’s become my closest friend this therapy.
She looks just like me this lady.
Same swimmers with the bow at the back just a different colour.
She even has a similar themed book to me.
“Untamed” is hers.
Shed it sister I think energetically giving her a nod to buck all of the systems.
“Excuse me do you mind if we use this branch?” A young girl screeched through the sun glare.
She popped out of nowhere fast and off she ran even faster, after I welcomed her playing in the tree shading me.
The woman in the swimmers like me is not reading her book but on her phone.
I wonder if she too is furiously writing to ease her angst?
In between distractions I call on the ocean gods.
I am a neptunian lady after all.
I call on the spirit of the ocean to wash me as I open up to life again.
The tweeny girl is back and this time with friends, they are ready for action; fighting while climbing the tree.
“I’m not playing, stop it”.
“Have you ever kissed a close friend that’s a boy?”
These kids are aged between 5-7, four of them.
“Ava will you go into the water with me?”
“No my necks stinging”.
Twirling and spinning they are climbing the tree, as leaves and little husks fly around me.
“Are we annoying you?” a tiny voice curls through the tree.
“A little bit” I said, “it’s just because when you play it moves the shade”.
“You have very good manners” I confess.
“It’s a bit too sunny isn’t it?” the young boy said trying to move the branch to shade me - he looked such a midget against the branch - probably aged around four but he gave it a real good crack.
How sweet; he cared so much to try to improve my plight while the others played.
The innocence of the kids moved me.
They wanted to play in the tree, so they played in the tree.
No dramas or four walls about it.
Finding the last few remnants of chocolate biscuit in my teeth, a couple walk past catching my eye; the man is holding their little blonde beach babe, maybe 2 years old.
A pregnant women also swans across the beach looking all the part in Noosa.
As the couple walk away from me towards the water the little boy clocks me straight in the eye and I’m hit.
He’s really interested in what I’m doing.
Maybe it’s the phone - he could already be hooked but the parents look like the kind with good house rules so maybe not.
He stares and I stare back.
He’s just - curious.
I feel safe to look at him, this little blonde bub.
Not like yesterday or a little while earlier when I did the shops, my eyes darting away from strangers.
And then it hit me - I need to keep chipping at these edges because I want to make it to the sea.
So the breeze can open my mind.
And curious kids can play in the tree above me, fighting and screaming, leaves and ants falling on me.
That’s what I want.
To be cracked open by the innocence of the world.
“Hey!! hey!!” the little boy screamed across the sand.
He’s racing up the beach now - he’s all blue shorts and a yellow body board, five times the size of him.
“Can you carry this?” he whirls handing his board to his dad.
As the little boy's feet wrestled the sand ploughing past his dad I’m reminded that sometimes we just need a little help to lighten our load.
Like when a young child’s curiosity shows us that innocence exists, when kids play in a tree and I am reminded that chaos can be fun and safe, and when a lady a few rocks down on the sand - now with eyes closed meditating with the sunset on her face - softens my heart, showing me strangers can be healing, and that maybe we aren’t so alone in all of this, as she’s got her tools to get out of prison and so do I.
It’s so worth seeing if the world has changed - if I have changed.
Because maybe today won’t be like yesterday at all.
Maybe today it will be refreshingly totally different and there won’t be monsters, but just tiny little people who laugh and want to play and I’ll have the courage to clock freedom straight in the eyes.
The next day, my feet moved out of walls that never stood over me.
The next day I tumbled and rolled not without fear, but with a healthy dose of courage.
My skin stinging at times from sea lice, my leg aching red, slapped by a blue bottle and my face and stomach giggled.
It all seemed so hilarious now.
Feet on the board.
One ankle strapped in.
Each day it takes just a little step.
An edging closer.
Is the monster really that bad?
Is it even there anymore?
How can I go gently with the monsters living in me?
So tomorrow can be better than yesterday.
And I can stand a little taller.
The monsters a little smaller.
On my surfboard.
To say this journey of getting here, ready to publish and share my heart was a challenge is a er' understatement.
In the last week I came to terms with the level of awareness and healing it takes to own and embody the message of my creations... more on that in the next written piece on the inspiration and intention for Listen out Monday 08.03.21.
Debut song Listen out Saturday 13.3.21.
Join me in the victory.
** Thanks to Jax Oliver for this photo.
Editing by me.