Waves from the lake push and splash at the concrete slabs tumbling at the shore.  This used to be a naval base, and pilings and broken pavement now is slowly polished and trimmed with red tendrils from moss.  Nothing stops the waves and the slabs of formed rocks don’t move.

Like feelings against deeply anchored “rules”, wave after wave of feelings bump into some story about what life should be, what others should be, what my day is supposed to be, what I planned for.  Emotions keep on waving from the shore of a myth built by my mother or grandmother or father or some movie I saw where the hero’s promises eventually are fulfilled.

If it is all stories, then it’s about picking new ones every day.  These feelings keep making up stories that I don’t like, I’d better fashion them into something that I do like.  Talking my feelings into a good story means that I have to get my feet wet.  I have to sit in the waves, learn about the salt tears, unlock the force of the desires and let them wash and wash over me.  I can’t damn things up, or the power can explode. 

If I do put up barriers, ideally I can manifest the force of the feelings into powerful new creations.  I can use the water to grow new plants, ideas, relationships, activities, or let it build up and break down and flood a valley that has been cultivated, making it into a lake for recreation.  Eventually.

I am integrally at one with the Divine as a wave in the lake.  I am not the whole lake, but I am these tiny life-changing waves at the shore.  Letting the waves of feeling just be; water in, water out, feelings in and out, heart pumping salty blood and tears.