I only got to the sea in the last quarter of the year. But it is a privilege and a joy I cannot overstate. Our plan for 2020 was to shunt between Goa and Bangalore, as and when we pleased, because finally we are at a stage and place in our lives where we can. But of course that plan was not to be.
We did make it though, in October, finally. And despite living in Goa for eight years and having this continued come-and-go relationship with it for nearly ten years now, this time around, I really made time and effort to make it to the beach.
VC and I decided before we came here this time around, four weeks ago, that we’d try and spend sunset at the beach everyday. And so when we did, I started marking the days. Counting them off, here and on Instagram. Till I got to day 10 (without a break) and I realised we were actually doing it. I t wasn’t just a pipe dream or a short-lived burst of josh. And so I stopped counting. Nearly four weeks in, I’ve been at the beach at least 5 days a week, on average. Most times with VC, some days with S, and many days alone. Sometimes to swim, sometimes to just sit and watch everything, sometimes with tea, sometimes just music, sometimes to lie on my mat.
I unfailingly made a conscious effort every single day to get out and go to the beach. And I made it on most days. Some days I settled for a coffee shop, or a drive — getting out at sunset everyday anyway. LIFECHANGING.
Anyhow. I’ve more than made up for lost time at the sea — a feeling I’ve carried for all the years I lived here and was too busy living life to actually go to the beach as often as one imagined one would.
All this to say, I’m deeply, deeply grateful for the sea. For showing me how to flow and be steady. For letting me let go. For taking my tears. For giving me so many spectacular sunsets to close so many days, all kinds of days. For taking my breath away so often. For leaving me silent and speechless. For being okay with my solitude and companionship, whichever I brought with me on any given day. For being always available. For steadiness. For resilience. For silence. For flow. For ease.
I have received more than I have given. I have taken more than I can ever return.
We spent today evening at the sea too. It was way mroe packed than it has ever been this season. That was expected, I guess. But it was ncie none the less. To soak my feet, ground them in grimy sand, catch floating seashells, dodge hermit crabs.
Watching the sun go down as it does every single day, I reminded myself to go in to the new year without heavily pressing my intentions on what is yet to come.
To be okay with feeling my way through.
To find comfort in the wonder. In discovering things beyond what I think I already know.
To learn and accept how little I actually do know.
To try and take each moment as it is. Full of possibility in its own way.
Without heavily pressing my intentions, expectations or plans on what it could hold for me.
To come and go lightly. To hold on to only as much as I need. And let the rest go.
To flow, and to be steady all at once.