the beachside

I sit on the sand, my body sinking into the soft miniscule pebbles. One million years ago these would have been boulders, sitting on some cliff way out in another world. But now they are just specks of sand on a long, wide beach stretching out forever. I feel small, young, insignificant looking at the particles. They are so much older, wiser than I will ever be. And yet…it’s just sand, flowing in and out of the ocean, smashing farther and farther down but never reaching the core of this great rock, the earth. And so I am better than the sand. But why? In all its years it should be valued more than I, treasured beyond words. Because who ever heard of a million-year-old human, or anything alive for that long?
The waves roll in, the waves roll out. A pattern is left on the beach, a thin line of foam recognizing where the wave once came. Something of a memoir; a life’s history. But soon another wave, a bigger, better, stronger wave comes and the line fades a little, and another wave comes, and you’d have to squint to see that line now. And then finally one last wave arrives and you would never know the first one existed unless you saw it; you witnessed its greatness. Is that how I will be? Outdoing another just to turn around and be outdone myself? Will all of my accomplishments be erased until my name becomes another’s, and no one knows who I am, or who I was? Or, will all remember me, and when my name is uttered, faces will turn and eyes will shine with the recognition of a household name? All I would like is one. Just one face, one identity, someone to remember me, and who I was, am. Just one.
A flock of seagulls strut along the shoreline. They peck and prod at the sand beneath their small feet. A few play tag-along, chasing and cawing and flapping their wings at one another, only to scurry off as the same is done to them. The birds are happy, content, even amused. I feel as though I’m watching a big family reunion, or the people of a very small town, where everyone knows everything about each other and is okay with all. No hard feelings, eh? And I wonder why the world can be so open, and so happy, and so…free, but become so closed off and secretive and tense. What have we got to hide? If we lived without regrets this would be possible. If we lived in a place where everyone was accepting of one another, and where there were no prejudices against anyone, then this world would be a better place. If we could all just open our eyes for one minute…but then they would close again, closing off any new discoveries, going back to the easy life. The life we’ve lived for far too long. A minute is nice, yes. But not enough. Imagine the life of a mayfly, or a gnat, and being killed after only twenty-some seconds at life. Just think: if your life were that short, you’d be a whole different person, a whole better person. Greed would not matter if you didn’t have enough time to cherish your wealth.