Hypnotic Waves

There are apparently many ways of centering oneself. Water, for example. For me, there are few things more effective at achieving a true meditative then sitting in any season within a few feet of a shoreline on a large body of water.

Water itself is hypnotic. It is always the same and always different, static and restless. It frames far vistas and hides vast mysteries. Deeper thought only entangles the eternal and infinite, including the origin of life itself.

Watching waves break on a shore is sharing a glimpse of the eternal. Billions of years before me, presumably waves just like these broke on a shore just like this long before the first DNA appeared. Probably similar waves will do so long after all I know is extinct. I am centered in a moment out of forever.

Sometimes it takes a while to settle in. I am always amazed at how the view puts all artwork to shame. The ruffles caused by wind, reflective patterns from rocks and pebbles, inexorably advancing and receding tides. Flotsam and seaweed and bubbles and _ well _ everything and one immense totality.

So a half hour or so later I am refreshed and tired and whole again. I blink and get up and try to retain some of the calm peace for a while as I reenter the chaotic world.

Nothing has happened. Nothing more than what has been happening for a very long time.

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