The beach is my happy place. As soon as my toes touch sand, my eyes see an endless expanse of water and my body is submerged in it, everything goes away. For a moment.
My only goals were to get a killer tan, work on a stack of books and reconnect with my family I've spent the least amount of time with this last year than I have in my entire life. I did all of those things, but putting my life in a sudden halt made me slow down enough to process all of the things I've been questioning.
When we arrived, a girl hopped on the elevator with us and my dad asked "how's the water?" And she said it's the best it's been all week. The jellyfish are gone. Awesome.
Only they weren't. Not really. It didn't stop me from getting in the water. My dad would be on "jelly watch," but somehow every day I managed to get stung. Just me. No one else. They we're babies so it was just enough to piss you off. An annoying burn that would last about an hour.
That same week, a friend of mine got mysteriously stung by a wasp in her sleep. I've begun calling her my "spirit guide" because she seems to be the only one who can sometimes actually answer "what it all means" turns out her sting was meant to wake her up, not just literally, to some things that she needs to address in her life and she let me know that those little pinkish, purple creatures floating around me were doing the same thing.
Apparently the jelly fish is supposed to remind us to live a balanced life, to allow the currents to take you toward your goals (jelly fish can't really move on their own and rely on the water to take them where they need to go for, like, food), but also since they are transparent they represent vulnerability.
"You are being asked to allow yourself to shine from within. Allow those around you to see who you really are and reach out to them with love and affection. There is no need to feel vulnerable when you come from the heart because the heart knows that love is the power and strength from which we all grow. Trusting your heart and its guidance is key for you right now so go with the flow!"
Did you see that word in there? Vulnerability? Y'all know that stings me worse than the jelly fish.
Those temporary surface stings took my mind off an internal one I had been trying to ignore for about a month. The sting of loss. I hadn't felt it in so long I didn't know how to get rid of it.
Last week, I really focused on it and took pride in that burn. The fact that I was feeling it, proved that I allowed myself to be vulnerable. Just like I did going out into the water even when I knew that it was going to hurt me. I would very cautiously approach, keeping a close eye out for jellies, but it never failed, as soon as I let go to just enjoy and carelessly float and let the waves carry me, the sting was there. Here's the thing, it never hurt bad enough for me to run out of the water. It was always worth the risk.
Now that I'm back in the city and back to reality, there's a different type of gooey creature floating around in my life. I could avoid them by keeping a safe distance or taking very calculated steps in life, that's how I've spent the last few years until recently. Or I could just dive in and accept the risk that something might sting me as I go with the flow in a very vulnerable, transparent way. The sting fades, but the exhilarating feeling of floating freely and openly never really does.
