This New Year’s Eve I’m contemplating what I can leave behind. 
What am I clinging to that no longer serves me? 
What happens if I let go? 
Will I feel adrift? 
Like a piece removed from the whole? 
I have quite a few negative habits that need to be dropped. 
I would benefit greatly by leaving them behind. 
Yet they’ve become so ingrained, it’s hard to imagine life without them. 
Some of these behaviors are like tattered baby blankets that elicit a form of security in my mind. 
Yet, when I let go I may feel as solid as a rock. 
Or as light as a feather. 
I may feel more connected. 
Entwined. 
Less like a misfit 
and more like an oddly shaped piece that makes a puzzle complete.
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.
Two ravens sailed above my right shoulder on a headland breeze. I could hear their noisy flight—air rushing through soft, black butter-knife feathers—even as the waves crashed. As I watched them disappear I noticed a beached redwood log.
I zoomed in and was astounded by its redness. Where did it come from? Where would it end up?
Further down the path I passed over Pudding Creek. A large octopus-shaped seaweed swayed as the incoming tide and outflowing river pulled it back and forth. From what depths of the Pacific did it arise? How much fresh water can it tolerate? How long can it live? Is it even alive?
I moved on. A small brown log tumbled in the surf. Waves pushed it toward another log much further up the beach. During the trees’ early years they were tied to one spot, rooted in the earth. But now they could roam freely on a wave’s whim. Did the two logs desire connection? Were they trying to meet?
Near the end of my walk I saw another redwood tree trunk that had been smoothed by the ocean. Though it looked like a toothpick from where I was standing, I knew it was probably at least twenty-five feet long. How large or small are we? Is our size mere perception?
I watched, mesmerized, as the trunk rolled back and forth with the rhythm of the waves. Though the salty water buoyed the log up like a beach ball, I knew it was heavy enough to crush me. What is more powerful, liquid or solid? Or perhaps spirit-like gas?
I spent a half hour watching that log and didn’t regret one minute of it. That simple act may have been the most important part of my day. I must make room for such experiences, for they are truly the heart of existence.
Sondra Sula's Blog: The Nature of Spirituality 