Surfing in Consciousness

Surfing in Consciousness

Southern California,

waves folding into the shore,

surfers learning to watch and ride,

not be carried away

by the Pacific swell.

Deep in the unconscious,

buried like ancient seeds,

rest the memories

of this life,

and of lives forgotten.

They rise unannounced

as desires and fears.

A desire appears

a small, glistening wave.

Watch it.

Ride above it.

It falls back into stillness.

Obstructed, desire hardens

becomes anger.

A towering wave,

crashing with force.

Watch it.

Ride above it.

It too dissolves.

Again, a stirring

fear, a trembling ripple,

a bubble at first,

spreading into grief

that overflows its shores.

Watch it.

Ride above it.

It returns to silence.

Another wave

born of indulgence,

of senses unrestrained.

Guilt rises,

circling restlessly,

again and again.

Watch it.

Ride above it.

It subsides.

Each wave, a teacher,

whispering the same truth:

You are not the wave.

You are the ocean,

vast and boundless.

You are the water

in which all waves

rise,

play,

and fall.

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