Ocean Floor

I am the Sponge, at the bottom of the ocean floor.

I look above, to all of which swims, in these deep waters.

There I am, on the Ocean Floor, Quiet.

I like it here. It is peaceful. I rest under the radar. I am too deep to catch the hook, be reeled in on a line, caught.

I have fulfilled my days with the idea that I can learn anything.

I want to just breathe, just be.

I want to practice Meditation.

I want to practice Yoga.

I want to practice cooking.

I want to knit.

I want to practice kindness, and laughter, and joy.

I want to lay on my living room floor, of my quaint little loft, and strum my 1/2 sized guitar. Just lay there, play my seven chords, over and over again. I want no audience, no microphone, no words, no thoughts. Just, strum. Strum like the way I would strum, back when I was 23 years old. I spent hours learning these 7 chords, down at the beach. Down near the ocean in La Jolla, San Diego. I just sat there, on my rock, viewing the ocean, her waves. I inhaled the Sea Salt Air and watched the Sun go Down. I was suffering Panic Attacks back then, and did not know what else to do, but get a Used Guitar, and just strum. I did not care about playing for anyone, I did not care if I was “good” or not. All I cared about was the strum, strumming my way into an easy feeling. I did whatever I could to avoid prescription anti-anxiety medications. I still do that, today.

I want to write, with no destination, no specific point, no fancy words. Just write, for myself. Follow my own dialogue, like wandering in my own maze. Just take corners and turns with my intuition, no destination. I have no goals, other than achieving Peace Of Heart, daily.

I am on a rhythm of a moment. My imagination is not something I can predict, nor would I want to. I want to think like a kid, and just do what feels right. Use all the colors of my feelings, and draw my life. Draw my path with any colors that I wish, and leave my trail of colors a glowing delight.

I want to sleep when I am tired. I want to wake when I am not tired.

I want to take walks in the drizzle of the Washington rain, and stare into the clouds. Watch the grey clouds move fast or slow.

I want to have talks with my Kid. He teaches me things I have forgotten. Things like where the largest volcano dwells. He is an excellent artist, he can draw and paint like a professional. He doesn’t know this, though. He just wants to color. It feels good, to not understand, that you are good at something. For, in the end, we are as good as we feel. How we feel when we are doing something we love. That should always be, good enough.

I am at the bottom of the ocean floor.

I am looking above.

I am taking it all in.

I am not at risk of getting reeled in, not at risk for getting caught on the line.

Nobody is fishing for me, and I am not hungry.

I am full.

I have all I need.

I have Love.

I have a Peaceful Heart