The Salty Air

imageMy life seems to be passing by so rapidly, that I find myself often feeling as if Im spinning in circles, and caught up in a whirlpool of water.  It was interesting to me that while I was over on the island relaxing, I felt dizzy.  I had vertigo.  At one point I felt so nauseated that I felt as if I might toss my cookies….sorry for the description.  It would come and go throughout the day, and often when I lay completely flat it was at its’ worst.  It was unnerving to say the least.  I was not the only one to feel this way.  My friend, and her daughter had dizzy feelings as well.  We discussed this at great length, and then my one friend gave me my inaugural treatment of “ear candelling.”  I had heard of this  practice, but never had I experienced it.

We were standing in the kitchen of our beautiful condo, when  out she pulled a long, paper,  cone shaped, horn looking thing, which she proceeded to put in my ear.  I’m usually up for anything, and I love a good fire, but when she lit the end of this funnel on fire, I do admit to having a tiny bit of trepidation.  Thankful that I did not decide to put hairspray on that day, since this large flame seemed rather close to igniting my head!  Apparently…note to self,….this type of procedure is best done out of doors.  The thing started smoking wildly, and before Jenny( my sister in law,) could get the sliding door whipped open, yup, you got it…the fire alarm started blasting.  We quickly took the candle out on the lanai, and frantically began waving towels at the fire alarm on the ceiling..  It seemed like a lifetime, but finally the alarm quieted.  We laughed heartily about that.  Much to my disappointment, no cute firemen arrived to see if the damsels were in distress.  Oh well, maybe next time.  We continued my experience outside, and I must say it was an enlightening experience.  Not sure that it helped my vertigo, but I can now say with complete confidence that I have been candelled!

When I picked up this  devotional book, I do admit that it’s all about the book jacket for me.  It’s like buying a bottle of wine.  Does the label appeal?  Does it make me want to taste it?  Same with the book.  If I’m going some place, I want the book often time to reflect what I am doing.  Somehow this makes the experience come more alive to me.  This book was perfect.  It was all about beach experiences, and I actually learned a thing or two while reading it…I know..amazing right?  It gave me pause to think how often we just look at the cover of people, and we wonder if we want to look inside.  Do we want  to discover more about them, or do we just put them back on the shelf and choose another selection?  Of course we can’t physically look inside a person without causing us, and them, some discomfort.  I guess we could get an x Ray, ultrasound, pet scan, cat scan, dog scan…(oops not even a thing…) but do these tests really tell us about the person?  They are useful in potentially diagnosing a problem, a physical ailment, but what of a broken heart?  We know that a heart can stop, it can have a heart attack, and stop beating, or get heart disease, have a hole in it, harden, and just fail, but can we define a ” broken heart?”

i was at the grocery store just yesterday, and the flower section was filled to overflowing with heart balloons.  As Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, I suppose that this  makes sense.  So many things to buy for those hearts of people that you love and hold dear.  I wondered how a person would ever decide with so much choice.  We know that the human heart is not shaped like an actual heart, but it appeals to us to think of it this way💙💛💚💜.  Many things in our lives can cause a broken heart.  The uniform thing is that usually it’s about pain, something that hurts us, and can often even cause us to feel physical pain.  We say, “that broke my heart,” “my heart is breaking,” “he/she broke my heart.”  Of course one of the more dramatic descriptions is, ” they died if a broken heart.”  This latter one makes you feel extreme sorrow, and when we think of a person feeling this  way, our hearts go to them, and we instinctively seek to comfort them.  In matters of the heart, we feel deeply.  Those ones we love do break our hearts…sometimes daily.  Would we want this pain, this  heartache to stop?  I don’t really think so.  If we are alive, and risk loving another, then we risk hurt.  We know this, but too often it’s too late to stop ourselves, because we already love.


As as I reflect back on my time of breathing in the salty air, warm sun on my skin, toes in the sand, I am grateful.  It has been refreshing, and encouraging to have been in this place, this little piece of paradise on an island.  Time does pass us by, and why is it that it takes a tragedy, a death, to put life and all of its’ value in a proper perspective.  What on earth are we rushing around so much for?  I think that spending time outside just looking around, taking a walk, going on a bike ride can have an amazing affect on healing a broken heart.  Perhaps the heart will have many unseen scars by the end of its’ life, but if we could  really see the profound and deep journey that it has taken, it would look rather like a “patchwork heart.”  There would be places where it had been sutured, gouged out, dis colored, frayed….but I’m thinking that some of the most beautiful ones I’ve ever had the pleasure to experience, are those hearts that show their scars.  To unashamedly keep your heart open is courageous.  I want to live life with these people.  I want to hear their stories, and share their adventures.  How can we have forgotten that as a child, the best thing was when somebody told you a story.  I remember years ago, telling a group of kids a story that I invented.  They were all hanging out on bunk beds up in Breckenridge, at a friends’ mountain home , and I wove the tale of “Mr.Sands.”  The kids listened with rapt attention on their precious faces…..and I had the time of my life entertaining them through story telling.  I’ve not thought about this experience for some time, and it makes me happy to remember it.  It makes my heart happy too.

It seems true, that only after experiencing a thing, only upon reflection can we see how very much it means.  We want to “live in the moment,” but the moment remembered seems even more precious to us afterwards.  These special times keep me up at night reminiscing, and I wonder if I will ever feel such joy again.  I guess sometimes losing someone that you cherish changes you, how could it not?  So I think on my memories, and try desperately not to wish her back….but I do miss her, and my heart is broken, but Insuppose in time, another patch will appear, a bandaid to heal my soul.




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