bliss.

This morning while taking a shower I thought, I must find Bliss. Before I had the chance to ponder where Bliss could be hiding, my counterpart chimed “You don’t ‘find‘ Bliss, you feel it. Finding it suggests that it went away. It is here. Feel it.”

 

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The Sandglass

I turn on the sink and cup water in my hands before splashing it on my sandpaper skin. I rub in the cool sensation until I am no longer in my bathroom and the water tastes like salt. And as the waves crash against my skin by the force of Mother Nature herself, I am calm and loved. Flashbacks of my summer existence and the inexplicable bliss, like the sun kissing my cheeks and the ocean hugging my body. My, oh my. 

I start rubbing ‘Angels on Bare Skin’ between my fingers and it is no longer a face scrub but the gritty sand I’m standing in, and my face; the sand sculpture. Suddenly, I am the sculptor and the work of art, all at once. What a liberation!

In comes the tide, and my sand sculpture washes away. I feel the salty sea water spray my face, like a mist.

My eyes are closed and the sun is beating down on my face. The contrast of the warmth and the cool cream I rub against my skin is heavenly. I am balanced.

 

My eyes;  they open. My skin is clean. 

I feel Bliss caress my cheek.

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