My dad used to ask me, “If you could choose either the mountains or the ocean, which would it be?”
I knew his choice was you, ocean, but at first, mine was mountains. Mountains meant skiing, and as a ski racer, mountains were, and still are, a part of my identity, a chunk of who I am. But as I grew older and my fascination with you expanded, I found my answer coming in closer to a tie. When visiting you, it took me more and more time to say goodbye each time I left.
The more I get to know you, the more I wanted to spend my life getting to know you. I want to discover the secrets you hold, the life you breathe into this planet. I want to live out there, just you and me and the breeze filling my sails in a big, blue, endless world of our own.
I go to you when I lose myself in order to find my way. You sing me your song, again and again, crashing against the rocks, wave after wave, until your message is pounded into my head:
Let go of the negativity. Let go of the future. Let go of what you do not have control over. Let go of the weight you carry with you, and the duty you feel to appease others. Let go. Let go. Let go. You remind me that I am free. You remind me that I am alive.
There are days when you are calm and there are days when you are angry, but you are always beautiful. True beauty is not dependent on showing up the way others want you to, but showing up exactly as you are.
The mountains may be a part of who I am, but you remind me of who I am. You take me exactly as I am, in whatever state I go to you in. When I get too proud, you knock me down. You keep me honest and on my toes. It makes every one of my cells sing just looking at the power building beneath your churning depths, your muscles rippling under foamy crests as you curl the weight of the world.
And then you let it go, releasing your hold and need for control just as you are teaching me to do. Only you can enrapture me so intensely, the mystery that you are, the sorcery that you seem to conduct. Only you can be at once so dangerous and comforting.
You calm, lapping gently at my feet, caressing my ankles as you swallow my broken tears in the dark. When I dive into you, you accept me willingly, wrapping your arms around me and stealing my breath away. And for one weightless, shocking second, you are all that was, all that is, and all that will be.
And when I shatter, you heal me,