The beach...

So now that I moved to my moms I'm even closer to the beach than when I was in my old house. I drive by it almost daily and when it's warm out, even just warm ish I try to get out there and get my feet in the sand. There's something incredibly therapeutic about feet in the sand I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because the sand welcomes in my tired worn out feet w warmth and support that conforms to each curve in my feet. Instead of hard and unforgiving like shoes it's soft. Gentle. Maybe that's like life. Life can be hard. Unforgiving. And everyone needs a soft place where they feel supported. Like feet in the sand. It's powerful when you think about it really. And that's just the sand. That's not the ocean breeze, or crashing waves or salt air. The beach calms and touches all five senses. Even taste as the salty air dances on your lips. The beach is my solace and peace. Where I regroup and yes maybe let it go out with the tide whatever 'it' may be that day. You can never really predict what kind of waves there will be on any given day and can change almost instantly. Some days it's quiet still and calming. Other days the waves pound hard one after another after another. Again a lot like life. Divorce. Job. Money. Insurance. Kids. One after another... And then just like the next day may be more calm. A break from the pounding. Yes I might be broke. I think there's $73 in my checking account right now. No idea how I'll buy groceries next week or gas in a few days. But I guess  if I have my feet in the sand and pockets full of shells it far far out weights a pocketful of cash.