Rock

On my last day at Akrimios, I took a walk down the mountain road to the sea. There, I noticed a rock with several markings. Among the markings, I saw the initial of a certain beloved. I liked the rock. I wanted to keep it, put it in my pocket, treasure it.

So, I cupped both hands around the rock, held it to my lips, breathed his name into the rock, and hurled it into the sea.

 

I watched the rock disappear with a tiny splash and barely a ripple. The gesture was symbolic of surrendering my hopes and desires to something greater than myself, trusting them to the stillness of the bottom of the sea. Isn't that what my journey has been about, surrender? Letting go, not clinging?

Dear Universe: I like holding. I would like to do that again. Amen.