I couldn’t feel my life. My body felt disjointed from my head; like my limbs were strewn about, each functioning but independent of each other; like my head was in command but the rest of me not listening. I couldn’t feel me. Each day working, conquering, climbing, battling be it in the office or in the grocery store, I was on 21st century autopilot.
I drove to the coast. I took off my shoes leaving behind my blackberry, computer, phone, the unanswered texts and e-mails and all the daily annoying, friendly, demanding chattering voices grabbing at me.
My goal was to walk on the beach and clear my head. I mastered this for about 30 seconds. Catching myself several minutes later planning my next business meeting, I realized I was totally unaware of the majesty of my surroundings. I had to break it down:
Feel my feet on the sand. Focus on what it feels like as the toes squish in, how sand feels on my arches and heels. Feel the wind as it graces my face, back, the tips of my ears. Smell. Turn this way I can smell the salty ocean water, that way smells a bit like campfire. Hear. I take in the sound of seagulls, the crashing waves, voices of play and delight; See. I had been looking but was not seeing the remarkable sky, water, earth and a little toddler running without their pants on.
It wasn’t long joy came and nibbled at my neck. My head said hello to my heart and I tasted once again, life is a gift. My life, this vessel, this journey I am on is a gift.
When my head can no longer can hear my heart and the affairs of my day rule my identity and well being, it’s time to take off my shoes and go for a walk… and remember.