When I have that foreboding feeling that my creativity tank is running empty, when I feel like I’d burned both ends of the candle too often too long, I go swim in the sea. Though the swim itself can be somewhat physically tiring, the waters nourish my dried up soul. It’s an almost spiritual thing, and heading to my favourite beach like a pilgrimage. 

It’s a nice white sand beach, tucked away from the big ocean waves due to little islands and coves around the area. I swim across to the island in a few minutes - yes it’s that close by - and soak in the waters by a quiet stretch there. It’s kind of like a small cove, the waters are clear and calm, palm trees overhanging, and lots of tiny hiding places in the rocks and moss on the beach, making it quite a popular nursery for young fish. Just sitting on the water’s edge, being still, gentle waves lapping on my feet, you can see schools of tiny fish floating about near your feet. Once, I even saw a sting ray skirting around these parts. Freaked me out a little, and I avoided the beach for a while after that. Otherwise, it’s a lovely, quiet tiny stretch of all-natural beach. 

I like to soak in the shallow waters there, like in a floatation chamber, just listening to the sound of my breathing through the water, eyes up towards the expansive blue sky, lightly cradled by the gentle waves. Almost womb-like, definitely therapeutic. The sun warming my face, sea cooling down the body, and all of the nature all around me nourishing my fatigued soul, that battered spirit. It’s a meditation, a nap, a feeding off Mother Nature’s breast. 

The sea, a womb for a tired soul.