An Old Journal

I found this in an old journal from my first trip across the country to Oregon. It is from a woman's retreat to the ocean. At the time I was getting over a heart break and was in a new place with new hope and possibility. I was 25 then so it was written 3 years ago.

"I can feel the horizon. I can hear the waves...constant, droning and then a loud crash maybe two, it softens and then again the deep drone of an endless motion of waves. If you stand here you don't even need to close your eyes to imagine the space, the darkness. It is here. This deep sense that there is a huge ocean, a vast horizon, I;ve written it but I just can't get over it. Something great is just beyond these threes, something that I've had nothing to do with, something that I cannot control, that cares so little about the 25 years that I've been here on this earth. It does not care that I am white, tall, skinny, it sees no shape and my form easily fits into its ever churning substance. I am not an imposing, inconvenience, I am not impossible, I am only another. Another creature that could be sucked down, tossed up, caressed, lifted and rolled in its ever fluid voice of surf and tranquil adoration of a creator so much greater than us both.
To think, it does not care my heart has been broken, it shares not in my worries or my resentments, it only calls me to come, seek further, seek deeper, seek beyond myself, seek beyond the waters that crash. So quickly I project myself in the water...can't you see how angry the ocean is, I think. Hear it crash and toss always changing never the same nothing constant, come and go be late, on time. A Year and 1/2 ago I would have said, hear...see the passion, how it rolls and crashes with ecstasy, hear lust and love collide in it's foam. Who knows what it will be tomorrow. Who I'll be tomorrow because now....I hear a vast expanse that speaks in a voice only angels can hear, only the righteous can express the sounds I hear now. This vast expanse, this bit of love, this foaming, churning body of water sees me. Just me. Not all I've done, or where I've been. It sees not the walls I've built or the bitterness that rages, or the forgiveness that is slowly getting the last say. It just takes me, as I am It takes me as I am just as I am. It makes room for my body, it wraps its substance around every creves and bump on my body, it comes into every hole I can't close up and seeps into every pore. This vast expanse I have no control over no history with so past or future only present with, it takes me as I am. And like the creator, reflects the glory of it's creator, just like me, just as I am.".