Celebrating the end of the semester,
Rickey and I went to St. Pete Beach for three days and two nights. The first
morning I took a walk I slipped a timer into my pocket and headed off in the
half light before sunrise. My plan was to find a quiet spot on the beach to do
my centering prayer. The beach was mostly deserted, which I loved. The air had
a tangy bite, which I also loved. The breeze whipped at my sweatshirt, and
although I shivered a bit, I didn't really mind. I decided I'd keep walking to
stay warm and later I'd look for a spot to pray. Later turned into an hour, and
I was still walking. As the sun rose, people joined me, and I finally realized
I needed to stop shortly, or I'd miss a private opportunity. I spotted a small
bench and headed toward it.
For Charlie Kabbash's
birthday in memory of Julia and Najib Kabbash. "Look what I gave
you!" read the small
plaque attached to the heavy resin-concrete bench I'd found nestled on the edge
of a sand dune. I looked at the simple solid slats and smiled at the
thoughtful, creative gift. Then I settled comfortably in place. Whoa! It was
one thing to stand facing the bench admiring the structure and the message, but
it was quite another thing to experience the meaning. There I sat looking at
the wide expanse of the Gulf. With the sun gradually inching up behind me, I
watched the waves roll and sparkle gloriously. I watched gulls soar and dip so
at ease in their belonging. I watched clouds gather in thick, puffy white
patches. Then I closed my eyes to center. Twenty minutes later my timer's
gentle "bing" calls me back, and I open my eyes to the waves, to the
birds, to the clouds, to the bench and to Charlie's real gift--a place to be
present, a space to breathe, a way in to being transformed by love.
