An unedited free-flow writing experience, written from the heart in about 5 minutes.
Red initially popped into my head, I don’t know why. Seems aggressive. When I think of my own grief from the greatest loss of Fanny (my beloved dog), initially I think of grey. Life being less vibrant. But also being like an overcast day at the beach. A place that can at times be so full of vibrant life – children playing, friends talking, waves crashing, the pure contentment of laying on warm sand while simultaneously feeling the radiance of the sun warming your skin.
The beach on an overcast cold day is more solemn – people may be walking along the waters edge with shoes off, but bundled from the wind. Nobody is lying on the sand. Quiet and contemplative is the feeling of those you pass. The beauty is in the quiet, the lack of distraction, the ability to connect to Self and Source, to feel the tears flow. There is a wholeness that can be experienced here, even in the empty hole in your heart. And that hole equals an opening where immense love can flow in. An opening where all masks fall away. An opening where all the sensations can come alive if we let them, if we don’t run away from the pain.
The damp salt air on your skin.
The wet sand between your toes.
The cold frothy water washing over your feet.
The waves crashing on the shore.
The seagulls flying overhead.
The vast horizon beyond where your physical eyes can see.
The smell of the salty sea enters your nose, the taste of the air in your mouth.
The abundance and gratitude for it all.
Stacey Filice Yoga 