a wild and quiet shore

I stood at the water's edge and contemplated the shores. There are so many, I wonder how anyone can ever feel like they are in a space of certainty. The shore between what we know and what is true must be the widest shore of all.

At the place where water meets earth, I barely thought of the tide's literal shore. Instead, it was the unfurling, the giving-up and letting go, the profound change between dryness and wetness, between sure and wavering - the layers of implicate shorelines, which spoke to my heart.

I thought of men dragging boats to the waterline and how one moment it is "here, ready", and the next, as water lifts their boat and floats it on hopes and trust and dreaming, it is "off we go!" at the shore between promise and adventure - like the one between life and death.

I watched the light dim and the water change from baby blue to grey at the cusp of evening. The sky desaturated, the wind hollowed out. A new mood came upon the world - as if Day is one person, and Night is another, brothers perhaps, with different faces and different hearts. I felt the snag at the border of believing and dreaming. It seemed to me that, times like this, anyone may be a shaman, just by breathing.

Walking the sands, my feet broke the tumultuous imprints of a hundred other walkers who had gone that way before me. I thought of the shorelines between myself and them. It is never the same on pavement. Civilisation allows us to leave few personal traces of our being. But in the raw places, the woods or the fields or the sandshore, we may be seen long after we have gone. Memory is another kind of shoreline, and it does not live only in our minds. It's a layer of natural being, and when we concrete over everything we block the shore of that essential part of living. We lose a part of ourselves...

But then it was dark, and I was all out of thinking. I left the beach.


  1. "I wonder how anyone can ever feel like they are in a space of certainty. The shore between what we know and what is true must be the widest shore of all."
    wonderfully said and so true. Although i speak with certainty too often, i mostly feel uncertain ;-)
    your photos are so very beautiful, the colors, the light.

    Another wonderful name for you!

  2. Hi Sarah,

    I just wanted to say thank you for your beautiful note that you sent back in March. I was very touched. I am writing again, but not at Slow Heart Sing. I'm starting anew over here: http://vanessateklenburg.com

    I think sometimes you need to step away from something to see how well it serves you. My instinct was right to leave Slow Heart Sing and grow something new.

    Love your new space here Sarah.


    1. So good to hear from you, I have just visited your site and been deeply touched, quite blown away really, by some of the things I've read there even in just this short while. I don't know if you'll come back here to read this comment, and I can't comment at your site, but I wanted to say thank you for what you have written and shared with the world.