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Friday, July 6, 2012

Water's Edge

"I used to think the question was 'who do I want to be when I grow up?' Now I know the real question to ask is 'who do I want to become?'"

Lying in the hammock, I aspire to float away on the lapping waves. The breeze is warm, and the girls dip in and out of the water all day.

I have a love affair with this lake. I swam in it's waters inside my mother's womb and I have returned here yearly like a salmon swims upstream to spawn.

The annual pilgrimage is not always easy. One year in the dark days of my youth, I didn't make it back until October. And today I forgo the spring break trips to sunnier climes that many Seattlites take so I can save the cost of flying us here.

There is something magical about being close to nearly any body of water. Those of us who live on the coasts flock to oceanside parks in any season. Making sandcastles on Winter's solstice to thank the earth for tipping back toward the sun is a family tradition. When I watch the Sound from a friend's deck, I can feel the pull of the water releasing my tension and providing renewal even from a distance. And the waves making music on the dock posts is the sweetest summer song.

Here at the lake, I have baptized myself over and over again. I have spoken to the water and sent out my best intentions into the universe while kneeling at its shore.

The lake stays the same year after year, reflecting back my true self and asking me to think about who I want to become.

I know that I am blessed (easier to say than privileged) to be able to return here, stay here, year after year. From the lake comes my deep commitment to healing, protecting and preserving the planet we all share. The lake has been a constant, renewing resource. It is the place that provides hope on a dark winter's morn.

I hope someday my children will grasp the fortune that shined on them to bring them to this place.
And I hope, dear Reader, that you will share with me a glimpse of where on this earth brings you peace.