Sometimes life is like a beach. Not a tropical beach with white sands and crystal clear water. But a beach where sometimes the sun doesn’t shine. The air is sometimes cold, the sky hangs low and grey, and the sand is wet and cold.
A place of unspeakable monsters
The sea is vast and dark. A place of unspeakable monsters. Sometimes the water’s edge draws close. Lapping at your feet like a deep and endless sadness. Indulged a moment too long. The monster’s tentacles creep unseen to wrap around your ankles like a rip tide. Dragging you under suddenly and away from the shore.
The shock of the cold water pushes the air from your lungs. You gasp to call for help but the water fills your mouth and throat. The monster continues to wrap itself around you causing immeasurable pain, forcing you further beneath the waves. You feel powerless, helpless, alone. Your fight begins to wane, the monster winning. You stop fighting. Help isn’t coming. Why are you deserving of help? You stood too close to the waters edge and allowed the monster to come. So just close your eyes and prepare yourself to submit.
“Suddenly there is colour. Red, yellow and blue beach huts, lining the promenade.”
The memory of the beach passes through your mind. The cold sand and iron sky. No reason to return. But suddenly there is colour. Red, yellow and blue beach huts, lining the promenade. You had forgotten they existed. Their bright colours breaking the bleak landscape. Their colour sparks a warmth within, a desire to be there on the promenade away from the cold. A desire to save yourself.
Open your eyes. Look around. There are hands breaking the surface of the water. Reaching into the dark, deep, searching for your hand. Desperate to pull you free from the monster and save you. The monster grips you tighter, desperate to keep you beneath the waves. You break free with one hand, weak from the fight. Take hold of one of the lifelines and let them take your weight. Let them help you fight the monster and prise you free.
You can and will break the surface of the water. Gasp for air and allow yourself to be dragged on board the life raft. Let the hands tend to you. Embrace you and provide you with warmth. You may feel ashamed and embarrassed that you needed their help, but the hands don’t care. They will turn your weak gaze to the shore. Show you the beach huts, vibrant in contrast to dark of the ocean.
The helping hands will stay with you there
The helping hands will row you to shore. Carry you clear of the waters edge and set you gently back on the softer sand, closer to the promenade. The helping hands will stay with you there, encourage you to stand, learn to walk again. Step back from you and allow you to feel your own returning strength. They will stand as a barrier to the cold ocean and the monster that continues to call you back.
I can promise you that you can live on that beach. Inside a brightly coloured beach hut. You can sit on it’s front steps and view the monster from a safe distance. It is possible to surround yourself with the hands that saved you. Use their strength to support you and keep your beach hut somewhere you will want to stay. A place where sometimes the sun will shine too. It can be a place of hope.
Thank you Matt White for the use of your stunning photo. Please give to Raindrops to Rainbows and keep these helping hands strong and always available for those ready to fight their own monster.