Month: April 2026

Sand Bubbles

I saw these bubbles in the sand this morning. At first, I only saw one and it was about the size of a clam. I thought it might be so I tested the bubble lightly with one foot. But there was not a shell, the sand just popped and flattened to the ground. I was curious to what that was but shrugged and started walking again along the shore.

And that’s when I realized it was not the only one at all. There were many many more. I followed them to the end, they stretched the entire beach. Little pockets of air under the sand as the tide slowly came back in. A phenomenon that is brief and only exists until the ocean swallows them up again.

I wonder if I will see them again sometime. If I will be by the beach again at the same time conditions are right to make lots of bubbles in the sand.

Automatically I think yes, of course it probably happens every day. My second thought is how special that it happened today. Time stretches far ahead of me and I feel immense gratitude that all the conditions and timing lined up for me to be here, today. That my life expanded a little more today.

High Tide, Good Vibes

The ocean greeted me this morning right when I walked on the beach. It was almost high tide and still rolling in.

I had a neighbor for many years that hung a retro flag in front of her house every summer that said high tide, good vibes. My son and I began saying high tide, good vibes all the time together once we had noticed the flag. It became our club.

I began to love summer and the beach again with him. We would check the tide chart or notice out the car window if the water was high. We would look at each other and say high tide, good vibes! (Which meant let’s go!)

We brought a towel and some water and the clothes we were wearing. With so little beach there was little space for our belongings. It felt so free to travel light; like I had as a teenager.

My son and I stepped on the beach, and reached the water in less than three steps. We played and swam. The ease of the afternoon made everything right in my body, in my life, and that it would continue to be right again and again. Because the ocean held me, my son, and my life in its embrace.

We eventually walked home still in the magic of the day. We shared smiles and laughter along the way, and when we said high tide, good vibes again it meant you and me, this right here, will always be.

Sound Bath

I did my first yoga class in nine years yesterday. I still felt strong in my body and safe to move since the bioenergetic conference over the weekend. I felt a confidence in my abilities again. It felt really good.

But by last evening I was really sore. I heated my muscles and I iced before bed. I slept well and woke up even more sore. Tight hamstrings, leading to a tight low back, it felt like inflammation in every muscle and joint.

I went for my morning walk hoping to feel looser while walking and moving my body. It was tough to go, but I knew it would help my sore muscles. What I didn’t expect though, was the complete loss of pain that eventually washed over me.

It was gradual so I didn’t notice it at first. I was lulled by the gentle roll of the waves as I walked along the shore. Each wave lost its white cap as it rolled over the sand. The water stretched as far as it could possibly go each time before returning to the sea. It left water pooling as the next wave rolled over towards shore. The rhythm of the waves became a sound bath. As I walked bathed in this entrancing and therapeutic sound, all the tightness and pain left my body. I had immense gratitude for nature providing the exact healing event for what I needed that day.

I looked up at the sky and felt reassurance of its vast strength. To remember it holds me as I heal and feel strong again, and all the time.

Today

Today my daughter joined me on my morning walk. I often go alone to have time in nature by myself to start the day, but I also love when my children or a friend walk with me. It amplifies the joy I feel in nature to share it and be together. My daughter is three. She really wanted to come. She put on footie pajamas, rain boots and a coat for the excursion. We live a 10 minute drive from this beach and she chatted happily about her friend Lucy and what they like to play. I helped her out of the car and she immediately wanted to go home. She was scared. She said “the beach is too loud and scary.” We talked about what she saw and heard and I told her that I still wanted to walk as planned. The wind was coming directly at us off the ocean. It was cold and loud. I carried her for a short time to protect her a bit from the wind. Eventually we stopped and got very low crouching in the sand with our backs to the wind. The sound faded some and it was warmer in this position. We looked at each other and began to run around until we were laughing. When we started to walk back to the car she walked on her own looking for treasure as we went and choosing her own stride and movement and pace. Her hair whipped in her face over and over but it did not hide her somehow. I could see her clearly. This strong, joyful, adventurous soul who needs both support and protection and freedom to move as she wants. The ocean and wind were loud and powerful today. My daughter reminds me of the beach where nature gets to change and express itself freely day to day. Its beauty never dimmed and its life sustaining force always present.

Connection

I recently returned from a bioenergetic analysis retreat in Essex, MA. I went to find connection with other people and support my body that has been feeling very stuck. I found connection both with others and myself. It feels like a profound stillness and love. An awareness and joy in how every movement connects to another part of my body. It’s fluid and its strength and it’s joyful. A vital energy charge when humans come together fully available fully present. And I connected with parts of myself that accompany me through my life. The parts that didn’t integrate at the time; that didn’t get all the support they needed at the time. I saw myself in a he hospital bed giving birth to my son all alone. I felt the deep sadness of not having people who wanted to be with me, fear of not knowing what to do despite all the books, classes, and hypnobirthing I practiced, and anger at my powerlessness of that moment in my life. I felt vulnerable, exposed, weak, and so scared. Within my group, I was able to feel, be witnessed and be supported with what I need to heal. I was midwifed through my grief for what I lost. The ability to bear down and use my strength to birth my son. To be connected to my core and him. I was supported by the weight of another to bear down, feel my legs, my bottom, my core, give voice to the pain, the joy, and finally the profound sense of pride and gratification of completing something I felt was taken from me. Something I didn’t know how to do alone. Every step I’ve taken since the conference has been strong, engaged, joyful.

Earth

A reminder that the earth is available to me any moment I look for it. Its strength, its resilience, its beauty, its understanding. The firmness offers support, the wind offers clearing, the sun offers nourishment, the ocean offers renewal, the clouds offer softness and protection, the ridges in the sand offer an opportunity to slow down, The light and dark show the acceptance of the range of emotions present in human life.