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When I was a young boy I would go to our cottage in the summer on the East Coast of the United States in Maine. I don’t remember about much about the drive, just the anticipation of getting there.
This was always a wonderful time, filled with the smells, sights and sounds of summer. I can remember the smell of the ocean,to this day the fragrance of low tide still brings back the memories of the cottage on the beach, the sound of the surf and cries of the seagulls. This is where I learned how to swim in the ocean, dig for clams, hunt for crabs and practice general tomfoolery with my younger brother. My father was usually involved that part of the game, making up ridiculous names for things and hamming it up with us.
Oh how I loved those trips and times. I can only think of them as a feast for the senses, the curiosity I had as a child was boundless. It knew no limits, nor did it want them. I now know that this was a natural state of being; not being told how things should be, experiencing everything in the moment. The pure, unbridled joy of loving the skin you’re in.
I’m getting back there now after after 50 some odd years of life experience. Wow ” What a long strange trip it’s been.” to paraphrase the Grateful Dead. I can only hope that you might find that part of yourself that’s still finds wonder in a walk on the beach or looking at the stars on a clear night. That is my wish and prayer for you my dear friend.
Live life like you are still four years old and loving it
To you and your journey
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