I Gave My Pain To The Water

A friend reached out the other day when she knew my soul was hurting and told me to give my pain to the water.

As I looked at the horizon, further than my eye could truly see, I noticed how the vastness, space, and openness invited a cleanse.

The salt water rushed around my feet, I went a bit further into the sea up to my waist, and washed my hands of their dirt.

The sand underneath cleansed my feet; its abrasiveness sloughing off the dirt of paths I once walked.

The salt of the water entered the pores of my skin, and brought out the toxins; allowing my body to breathe again.

I took a deep breath, and felt my pain one last time. It was dark, ugly, biting. I let myself feel it one more time before I breathed out with all the force I could muster.

The sea breeze rushed over me, swirled around me, and promised me she would take my pain, and whispered “let go”.

I gave my pain to the water, she took it out to the horizon. It went down with the sun; the many suns of days before this one; and dissolved into the infinite beyond.