I needed a little extra meditation time this morning, so at the halfway point on my walk I stood in the beach, watching the waves and listening to them crash (gently) on the shore. I watched as the water’s edge moved up and down the beach, advancing and retreating over and over. And saw the sandpipers, retreating when the waves were advancing, and advancing when the waves were retreating. But always right there on the edge.
It is on the edge that they find nourishment - tiny creatures washed in and out by the waves.
These days I feel a lot like a sandpiper. Living on the edge. Alert to the advance and retreat of the waves. Engaging in a delicate dance with a reality I cannot control, looking for spiritual nourishment, the morsels that are only accessible in the ever-moving waves.
I don’t want to be crushed, neither do I want to starve. It’s faith vs fear, yet again. Fear the wave is too big, too strong. Faith that my life depends on what I find within it. And so I look to the sandpiper for wisdom. It is okay to advance and retreat, over and over. To dance with the waves, finding life-sustaining nourishment.