Moving toward the tide
#15—Challenging our perspective of movement.
Welcome to Mind Flexing, your weekly thought expedition to everywhere and anywhere. Strap on your boots (or put your feet up), take a deep breath, and let’s get flexing.
The surging serenade of the waves softly roars to a crescendo from beneath the salty breeze, and fades. It pulls away, dissolves as the wind takes charge, momentarily caressing my cheek until a wave’s roar returns to capture me. Again, the sea swells to tickle the soles of my feet and just when I feel that it has submerged the soul of my heart, it pulls away.
Voices chatter and giggle incoherently as I watch the white foam of the day’s lower high tide inch back toward me in the fading afternoon light. The wave carries a cool sensation, splashing over my ankles and spilling up the sand, stretching further than before.
And so moves the tide as it dances with the moon.
In the evening, in the moon’s Autumnal sky, the Emu that lives in the dark spaces of the Milky Way will begin to rise to signal the start of the breeding season. It will peep its head above the horizon then climb to cross the night. It will return, night after night, tracking across the sky until it disappears into the summer.
On the beach, I stand still, and the waves break and move toward me. The stars move across the sky. At least, they appear to move, tricky little things, for it is I that am fooled by my human-centric perspective; my life of illusion.
The universe may constantly expand, but from earth, the stars don’t visibly move in our lifetime. They sit in the heavens, in situ, while the earth rotates on its axis and journeys around our star, the sun.
We move, coming and going from the stars.
And on the beach, I stand still. The waves do not approach me. I approach them. I stand on my earth as it rotates into the tidal bulge of the sea—the mass of water forever pulling toward the moon and its gravitational power.
I stand still, my feet sunk into the sand, and the earth carries me toward the tide. Motionless, I push into the cool water, further and further as I move beneath the stars. How incredible.
Video of the earth’s rotation against the night sky.
Things I’ve enjoyed reading on Substack this week
Is There a God of Punctuation?—by Mary Roblyn
What’s in a name? Is it Faith Lilac Way? Or Faith, Lilac Way? Mary delicately extrapolates this thought with her poetic touch.
when writing fails me, reading scoops me up—by Luisa Skinner
Luisa has released the list books by female authors for the 2024 book club, and it’s tremendous. My own reading list is already longer than I will manage this year, but I will aim to read a few on this list. I’ll be watching and reading with interest.
Do Books Belong to Their Writers?—Elif Shafak
Should Gabriel García Márquez’s latest novella have been published? Elif reads into the situation.
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I’ll be back next week. Until then, keep 💪.
Love that video and your sketch :)
Perspective is endlessly fascinating, isn't it? Perhaps the closest we can come to experiencing the universe "as it really is" is understandling a little of the vast gulf of our partiality.