It's a short stroll from my apartment. The waves crash feverishly against the shore. Yet it lifts me to a calming, mezermizing serenity. I sink into the grains of sand, where I can just be for hours on end. I contemplate it all and realize nothing. Something about the rhythmic explosion of water crashing onto the land flips on a switch in my head that opens up a world of worlds, a universe in which to enter unconsciously yet knowingly. I hear the waves, but I don't hear them. Instead, I hear my voice, the voices of family and friends, the voice of an Energy greater than it all, and bitter voices too: those who hated or seemed to hate me, those I hurt or think I did. They are all with me, as I am contained by the warming grains of sand. They are all with me, taking me back to places I've been, being with me here and now, taking me to places I have yet to go, or not go. It all comes together in this time and place. I only moved here to be closer to the ocean. I didn't know I was coming home.