My book Shifting Shorelines is a culmination of hours spent beside the sea listening to my greatest teacher, Mother Nature. She is both gentle and fierce. I am but one of her many students. When we souls move temporarily to earth, we leave behind the infinite, timeless field from which we came. Nature whispers remember—remember from whence you came and where you shall return.
It is our walk along the shoreline, between arriving in this life and leaving it, that defines us as human beings. What did we come to do? What did we come to learn? Who did we come to love? Do we walk with joy and gladness, grateful to be alive? Or do we walk unaware, oblivious to a deeper purpose?
I want to be like Edith Warton who wrote to a friend about the “wonderful adventure of living, which seems to me to pile up its glories like a horizon-wide sunset as the light declines. I’m afraid I’m an incorrigible life-lover, life-wonderer and adventurer."
An incorrigible life-lover and life-wonderer—may that be said of me.