I walk the line. The narrowing path of sand-dunes and tidal marks. I am no stranger here, but each time I visit, the walkable space between the barriers of the land and the gentle rush of the sea seems to shrink. I watch as I walk along- the waves roll in, surpass the first incline, sweep down the section of slight decline, then reach for the base of the surmounting dunes. It all pauses for a brief moment, then plays in reverse- backing away from the dunes, up the slight decline, then slides back down into the ocean. A gentle game of persistence. Each time this cycle occurs, the ocean reveals more of the land by carrying a few grains of sand away. Over time the dune begins to shrink- surrendering it’s barrier power to the softness of the sea.
I stopped and stood still. I imagined myself as a dune- strong, protective, able to withstand high winds and powerful surges. Then a wave frantically rushed over the incline, down the slight decline, and beyond the tidal mark to where I was standing. It’s cool soothing manner washed over my feet. As if it knew to start at my base, my protective barrier of who I am in this world began to crumble. It left me standing in the stillness of being. It allowed all armor to vanish, along with everything built on top of that armor. It washed away the dunes of time that stood between me and my inner horizon.
I looked left at the ocean, turned my head right to gaze at the dunes, then looked down to acknowledge my salty wet feet and it occurred to me- fires are put out by pointing and firing the extinguisher at the base of the fire. Mountainous dunes are washed away by the soft water rushing to their bases. And people’s walls fade when connected with at their base, their core of existence.