Moving water always calms my soul. I see myself standing on the beach, knowing I'm not in control, yet somehow peace is just out of reach. I hold my hands raised to the sky. It is only I that I deny. Just let go—the time is now. Peace is something I must allow. But how do we let go of memories etched into our minds like scars upon our skin? Some wounds close, yet still leave their mark within. Perhaps letting go isn't forgetting what has been. It's learning that a scar is not an open wound, and the waves that return each day need not pull us beneath them. The tide still comes. The wind still blows. The past still whispers my name. But I can stand upon the shore, feel the water at my feet, and know I am not the same. The ocean was never asking me to control its endless sea. It was quietly teaching me that peace has always been there, waiting for the moment I choose to let it be.
