Stones

Along the coast of Sicily, there are many beaches.
On the East Coast, the Ionian Sea, along the straights of Messina they are sometimes sandy but mostly black volcanic boulders. On the North Coast, there is sand and stones. For most of my life I have pushed the river.
Although I have been advised by those with more wisdom than I, to stop pushing the river, it seems that I only truly understand the concept when I am in Sicily. My house is 100 meters from the sea. There are no road noises – only sea noises – kids laughing, asking their parents to watch them, talk of politics, the sound of sand and small stones under the wheels of bicycles, an occasional car and an occasional dog barking, birds and big insects.
My beach has both sand and stones. In order to get to the water, after the HOT sand, you must be one with the stones. Entering the sea isn’t hard. I stand at the juncture point of the sand and stones and make a shallow dive. However, when I leave the water, I have a different solution. I do a back float and wait for the waves to push me towards the beach. By doing this, I not only feel my weightlessness, but I am effortlessly moved to my destination – the sand, sun and my towel!
Because I have been performing this exercise for the last 6 years, my persistence is still evident, but with much more fluididity. I realize that within the movement of each wave, I am transported by the “whole” – not the “one.”

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