Holding and Releasing

Oh, the view—creation at its most spectacular! Billowing masses of vivid red-orange nasturtiums in the foreground frame the sand, sea and massive jutting rocks—Elk beach in a nutshell. And when I wander down the winding trail, I meet more of the edible flowering vines tucked into the crack of a sheer cliff. I’ve always admired the tenacity of such cliff-dwelling plants.

Although I appreciate the ability to cling and hold on, I also applaud those who can let go. The seaweed has floated to its current destination, trusting itself to the great sea. Perhaps it has traveled long and far before being washed up.

Those who grab tightly and those who release into the flow both come to an earthly end. A succulent leaf becomes its own shed tear—a translucent droplet on rough sand. A crab waves its final goodbye. A thistle surrenders its seeds to the wind.

We are all transitioning. What comes next? Will we reseed ourselves and grow again? Will our spirits live new lives beyond our imaginings? I cling to a faith that allows me to let go—because I know I’m being held tenderly now and through eternity.

All photos © Sondra Sula.

The Long View

“Three Landscapes” by Sondra Sula

“Green Veins” by Sondra Sula

I like to get close to nature—literally. If I see an interesting leaf, not only will I walk right up to it, I’ll bring my eyeball to within an inch of its veiny surface. But there’s also something to be said for the long view, the vista, the place where trees blur against the horizon.

When I can’t see where the path is going because it bends beyond my vision, I must walk by faith, believing the path continues and leads towards a place I need to go. I don’t give up simply because I can’t see the journey’s end. And I also don’t take to the trail with blinders on, marching hastily through without stopping to enjoy the scenery.

If an obstacle is in my path, I can choose to go over, under, or around it. There are even times I need to go through it. Coming out on the other side is almost always accompanied by a sense of accomplishment.

“Overcoming Obstacles” by Sondra Sula

I’ll eventually come to an open area where I can turn around, take a breather, and see where I’ve been. These respites are helpful to reflect upon my progress, to feel the energy I’ve spent has brought me to a new place, that I’m not simply back where I started.

I may not be sure where I am on the journey, but I do know I’m closer to the horizon—and the view is a sight to behold.

“Cottonwoods” by Sondra Sula