The song of the sea
There's nothing like the ocean to soothe the soul.
My mother always said that the salt water would soothe all wounds. And, like mothers always seem to be, she was right.
I grew up by the ocean. As a child, caught up in my thoughts rather than paying attention to my surroundings, I was clumsier than most. So there were always plenty of wounds to offer up to the sea. Those scrapes and bumps on five-year-old knees were always kissed better by the waves.
And in hindsight, it was probably the short walk down to the water’s edge that cured each graze, each bruise. Distraction is so often the best medicine for a young mind. But I prefer to give myself over to the magic – that old wives’ tale. I refuse to believe it was anything but the water.
Now, as an adult, thousands of miles from my rambling childhood home by the sea, the ocean still brings a power to soothe. Though not just cuts and bruises.
My restless mind often gets the better of me. I overthink things. And in a city far from home, when I feel my mind start to race, I heed my mother’s advice. I get in my car and head to the ocean. A dose of salt water.
I close my eyes and I’m back at my childhood home. The sound of the waves is that same steady lullaby that once rocked me to sleep – the sound of home. Washed with a sense of security and calm, an immeasurable sense of peace. It’s the anchor that steadies me again.
Just give me a quiet spot, the sound of the waves and the salty air on my skin. It soothes my soul, the ocean. That mighty power. It will always be my go-to remedy.