It was during the writing of a post on my arty blog that I realised that the action of actually writing about something I love to do was an intensely relaxing, therapeutic process. I was enjoying myself immensely; taking photos, describing my processes writing down the thoughts and memories each action triggered. I was having a great time.
This serendipitous discovery led me to consider that perhaps I should do that with other things that interest me and that perhaps it could help with my general well being. I am a very emotional person, I cry when Pikachu gets hurt, cannot watch sad films and do not get me started at the level of emotional wreck I achieve when the theme from The Last Unicorn plays - I am welling up at the thought! But equally I laugh hysterically, love unconditionally and forgive immediately. That level of input to my experiences can be exhausting!
The world we live in affects me, very often negatively with all the terrible things that happen. So in order to be resilient to that I have started to seek out and focus on the things that make me, to use my favourite descriptor, perky. Fortunately, I am easily amused and can find beauty and fabulousness in the most peculiar of objects. For me the lines from William Blake's poem 'To See a World...' hold very true;
To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour.
But equally important is to take a moment to see the grain of sand in the world. The little, unnoticed things that can only be seen if you slow down and look, heard if you take time to listen and appreciated if you stop and be present.
Not 'in the present' as that implies no reflection on the past or planning and excitement for the future. To be present is to be engaged, to participate in the world and life.
I did say there would be random musings and I cannot say I do any of this very well but every journey needs a start and I have my ruby slipper planted very firmly on the first step of my yellow brick road.
Where to start then; well the title of my blog would seem a good place; the poem Sea Fever by John Masefield.
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.
I have always had a fascination with the sea in all its powerful, tempestuous, tranquil beauty. At one moment still and calm and at another angry, forceful and destructive. I love to watch the waves breaking against the shore and crashing against the rocks. I love the life and vitality of the sea, how it smells and sparkles in the sunlight, its many changing colours and how it influences the rest of the environment around it. I especially like to watch the gentle waves on a calm, clear night with a bright moon and a sky full of stars, the inky waters lapping against a darkened shore. This is why I have highlighted the first two lines of the poem.
I first came across Sea Fever from a cross-stitch kit that my mum completed for my brother. My brother server in the Royal Navy for 27 years and the sampler she created for him had a distinctly nautical theme. These first two lines were surrounded by gulls, fishes, shells, metal charms and a lighthouse and hung in his bathroom for years.
I think it is the imagery of a lonely sea and a guiding star that particularly appeals to me. I am sure some psychotherapist would read some meaning into that about feeling alone and needing a purpose or whatever and possibly there is a hint of truth in that for all of us, who knows. All I do know is that it conjures up a beautiful vision of an urgency to get back to something simple and uncomplicated.
There we have it then; my love of the sea. Item one on my List of Fabulous Things.
