“Come to me,” the wild ocean called.
“You’re too far away,” I replied.
“Come to me,” the wild ocean called once again.
“Maybe next weekend,” I bargained.
“Come to me,” the wild ocean insisted.
“Maybe on Sunday. I might be able to get up early to make the long drive worthwhile.”
On Sunday morning, I woke up and again heard the call.
“Come to me.”
“You’re too far away,” I groaned.
“Come to me,” she insisted.
“Maybe in an hour.”
An hour passed and I still thought it was too far to travel for just an hour or so on the ocean's shore.
“Are you coming?” she asked.
“I will go to the mountains instead. They have wild trees and they are closer.”
And so I dressed, packed my bag and got into my car. I pulled off the freeway in the direction of the mountains but I still heard her voice.
“Come, come, the sun is out. It’s not that far."
I tired to ignore her but I heard her call over and over and I knew I was bargaining myself out of what I really wanted, the wild ocean. That day, the wild forest was just a tired compromise. So I pulled into the shopping centre, bought my favourite coffee, then turned the car around and drove back onto the freeway and down to the wild ocean.
For three hours, I roamed at will, lay on the soft sand in the sun, and wrote in my journal as the wild waves continually crashed and rolled into shore. Few others roamed the shore and at times it was just the sea, the gulls and me. Wild solitude. Wild nourishment. Wild medicine for a wild soul living within the neat and tidy confines of suburbia.
Sometimes we delay too long answering yes to what calls to us, hesitating through our fear, uncertainty, tiredness and maybe even laziness but eventually when we do, we wonder why it took us so long...
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