TANGIBLE REMNANTS OF LIFE

My friend collected all of these shells at the beach on Sanibel Island in December of 2011. And it appears she had a reason in mind for how she wanted to artistically display these dead creatures. However, she never did tell me. If anything, she may have placed them with care, and they were purposely arranged, or maybe done in a random act? I really can’t recall. And yes, in a way, it matters because these shells helped me through some of the most difficult events that I could have never imagined.

In the three years since we spent this week at the beach together, both of us have had our share of tragedy.  Mostly random. Funny how life works that way. It is inconvenient to say the least, unbelievable to sound almost cliché when describing sickness and death. Little did I know that I would witness the loss of eight people that I loved, including my brother, mother and father within one year. And I never dreamed that the one who collected these shells would go through radical breast and lymph surgery due to an aggressive cancer that nearly took her life.  

These shells in the photograph are beautiful, but dead. How can this be? The deaths I have experienced were anything but beautiful.  In the months and years that I have suffered great loss, I have often asked myself where to find the beauty in the midst of my world. Quite frankly, it has been hard to see, and I have tried to imagine it

Looking more closely at the photograph, I could not help but notice the red, purple, brown, pink, white and other hues of colorful shells. Vibrant, even in death. Really? Death is certainly not vibrant, it is depressing and painful, in my view.

Some of the shells are smooth, some are rough. Death came like that for my loved ones. For some it was sudden, for others it stalled for months and it was a brutal road.

One day, just like my friend took the picture of the shells, I took inventory of the memories of my loved ones.  Was there a big difference between the shells and my loved ones? They both died. I think the hardest thing to accept about death of a loved one is the absence of a physical “shell”. II only have my memories to rely on, the inner beauty of my loved ones and my inner abilities to conjure up pictures in my mind and heart of what they looked like, and who they were.

Life is ironic. I have always loved shells for what they looked like on the outside, never for the creature that was alive within. I never really bothered to know or enjoy the inner being of most of these creatures. And it is that inner being that caused such beauty to last.

Revisiting the photograph one last time caused me to look at things about death in a whole new perspective. That is the beautiful thing about grief. I get through it by seeing little glimpses of life, in the obscure, and this thing about dead seashells is definitely obscure. In doing so, I am reminded to make the intangible remnants of my loved ones’ lives matter. Intently, I place memories in my heart and mind.  I recall my mother’s words saying “honey, you always do a great job…”, my father taking the toothpick out of his mouth, tilting his head my way, waiting for a kiss on the cheek when I greet him, my brother reminding me to defrag my computer, and my friend conversing with me over the phone telling me about each of her four young children. I capture remnants of their characters, their kindnesses, their accomplishments, and dreams, often. Those things are what I picture deep inside. They are my shells, I just have to make the time to walk along the serene water’s edge and embrace them.

Taking Time To Love...Ourself

Valentine's Day

It is all about love...
chocolates, flowers, stuffed animals and jewelry

Is it really about love?
melting, calories, dying, dusty, and rusty,

All of these tangibles fade

True love is finding the inner peace for ourself and then being that to someone else

I wonder if we take the time to give ourselves the gifts we need to truly love another?

Time, reflection, space, truth, creativity, food for thought, solitude, peace, service, freedom.

How much better would we be in loving others, if we truly knew how to love ourselves in a way that nurtured us to be more whole as human beings.

Only then, will we really know what we are looking for, and what love really looks like.

Simply Loving Soul
Sanibel, FL 12'

Honoring Life Even in Death

I love the beach, especially the sun, the water, the sand and the birds. When I go to the beach, I live for these things. I love to go to bird sanctuaries, especially those near the beach.

My friend enjoys watching birds too, but she explained to me that she is an avid shell collector and this is her passion.

I have considered the beauty of shells but frankly they are more of a nuisance than a pleasure. At the beach, I try to avoid stepping on them as much as possible. And many are broken anyway, so I wonder why I should bother with shells. They have sand on them and they stink if dead things are left inside.

When my friend put all of her shells out to dry, I took a second look and I saw the beauty. I realized that while I see beauty in birds because they are alive, my friend sees beauty in what remains from a living thing. Though it no longer has life, it represents the remnants of life and it is more beautiful than the creature which it protected.

And then I met a stranger at the bird sanctuary who took a picture of a feather floating in the water...and he said "there is beauty in everything...if you look carefully you will find it..."

Maybe the next time I avoid stepping on a shell, I'll pick it up and take it home...just as a keepsake to remember that "life is beautiful and even in death, that beauty can be celebrated."

Shelling Soul
Sanibel Island, FL 11'

Flying Solo

For those in life that appreciate the freedom in a single flight,
realize that life can be beautiful in its own right
to choose to explore alone,

to live as one
is also to be happy
and uniquely whole!







Flying Soul "o"
Sanibel Island 11'