I swear to you: I am losing my alleged mind. Lately, there have been just too many events, too many changes and too many emotions in my life. Many of the comfy boundaries and pathways in my life are shifting, in flux. The dependable patterns in my life are slipping away. I feel like I’m walking along a path made of jello. Or sand. Or quicksand.
A quote by Ella Leya expresses it perfectly: “Life is a desert of shifting sand dunes. Unpredictable. Erratic. Harmony changes into dissonance, the immediate outlives the profound, the esoteric becomes cliched. And vice versa.”
Leya’s words remind me of a “shifting sand” time in my own life. Five years ago, one year after the sudden death of my beloved husband, I went to Florida by myself, to a town I’d never visited, to take stock of the year just past, and to draw a figurative line in the sand; a realization that it was time to turn the page on my life with my husband and find a new way forward.
One morning, I walked nearly two miles to the beach, lugging a backpack and a lawn chair, hungry for the mesmerizing waves and the blue-green horizon stretching as far as the eye could see. I felt sure the ocean breezes would sweep away my grief and the awkwardness of being alone on vacation.
As I had hoped, walking in the wet sand at the edge of the waves soothed my weary soul and put a smile on my face. Taking a deep breath, I felt reborn.
Suddenly, though, a rogue wave crashed ashore. As it receded, it pulled the sand out from under my feet and, caught unawares, I lost my footing, got drenched and landed unceremoniously on the ground. No harm done, except to my dignity.
Shifting sand is a good metaphor for life, isn’t it? Change is the only constant. It may be sudden, like widowhood or being knocked over by a sudden wave. Or it may be a gradual change, sand eroding little by little. As we go along, the sand tickles our toes, soothes our hot feet and brings us peace–but it can also ebb away under us, making every step a challenge.
Have you ever watched children build a sand castle? They patiently, painstakingly design and build it — only to have the waves eventually destroy it. Some children cry; some laugh at the destruction. And yet they always build again.
When the waves have their way, when the buckets, sunscreen and water bottles are gathered up, when the castles have become part of the sea once more, what is left?
That’s a good question: when life feels out of control, when the “waves” overtake us, what is left?
That’s something I’m contemplating often these days. As I said earlier, my life is in flux just now. Patterns are changing, emotions are all over the map. It’s like living in a soap opera. And yet, most of what’s going on for me personally is… well, wonderful!
The shifting sands of life have brought me two unexpected gifts. I’ve recently become engaged to a marvelous man, which reminds me that miracles do happen. And… I’ve answered a call to the ministry that has been marinating for nearly forty years. I just finished my first year of seminary and will be ordained as an interfaith minister next spring.
Author Madeleine L’Engle had something to say about shifting sands: “It’s a good thing to have all the props pulled out from under us occasionally. It gives us some sense of what is rock under our feet, and what is sand.”
As I pack to move to my fiancé’s home, I surrender to the shifting sands that have brought me to this blissful moment. I needn’t worry about future “waves” that may arise, because I know there is solid rock beneath my feet. I am filled with gratitude.
Kathy Baker is a writer and speaker, a messenger of encouragement who loves to touch hearts and tickle souls with her work. She is the author of “Leaving Adversity Plaza,” and “A Tale of Three Choices: His, Hers, Mine.” She loves hearing from her readers and can be reached at [email protected].