On my recent trip to Hawai’i, I had a lot of time to simply sit and think on the many different beaches dotting the North Shore of O’ahu. Please understand that I’m not trying to rub this in. It was by a great stroke of timing, and maybe a little luck, that I was able to go when I did.
As I encountered the different beaches, one thing I always took notice of (beyond the incredible sunsets, clouds, trees, flowers, etc.) was the sand. The sand was a little different for each beach. At one beach, the grains were soft, small and well worn. At another beach, the sand was white and rough; tides were just starting to bring the ocean waves further inland in that area. My favorite beach had sand that was larger in size and a bit coarse though still soft under foot. Upon close inspection, I could see that each grain had a shiny, buffered sheen and was nothing more than a colorful piece of shell, relentlessly battered forever by the ocean.
Those thoughts led me down the path that the ocean, water in general, always gets her way. You can dam her and change her course to fit your needs, but without maintaining structures, she will batter and ram against obstructions until they disintegrate. Her power will eventually break down all impediments (whether natural or man-made) to her own path. She will grind everything blocking her chosen trail into small grains of sand, and she will eventually have her own course. She has a patient strength. She is stream, river, rain, snow and tsunami. She is also 70% of our body.
Knowing this, we should have a care for the water we encounter within ourselves and without.