One may argue that the abalone has no life after death, but I would beg to differ. Once the fleshy mollusk is gone, the shell remains and can form a makeshift community—like this close knit “nest of eggs.”
Is the whole a sum of its parts, or do the parts create a whole new whole?
Is this stone being embraced by the whole? What is the difference between being embraced, being held and being trapped? How does God’s embrace feel to you? Today, for me, it felt like soft octopus arms sans tentacles.
New growth begins inside the old when space is created.
Are the pebbles stuck, or did they decide to join the community?
Each abalone leaves behind its own signature, much like our fingerprints identify us. What will be your legacy? What will be mine?
The mother-of-pearl patterns on the abalone’s shell are reminiscent of a river with its ebb and flow, its eddies and currents. If we follow the river, will we one day meet the great ocean and merge into oneness? I hope so.
Photos © Sondra Sula.
Take a walk with me by reading my most recent daily devotional book, Meditations on Mendocino by Sondra Sula. Available on Amazon in paperback or Kindle versions.
If you’d prefer a daily river walk, Reflections on the Fox River and Beyond by Sondra Sula, might just be the book for you.
Sondra Sula's Blog: The Nature of Spirituality 