Unwelcome Hitchhikers
Upheaval, uncertainty, and sadness all revisited my door recently. So in keeping with custom, I took my woes for a walk on the beach this morning. But the sand patterns today were different from any I can recall encountering. They appeared almost troubled, desperate, and haphazard. As if the tides abandoned their timeless ritual of gradual recession for hasty retreat. Leaving behind what could be construed as intentional motifs of warning for anyone who followed or found them.
The waves themselves were acting out of character as well. The playfully reliable lapping at my feet to which I have grown accustomed was replaced by odd inconsistencies and surreptitious flanking that caused me to alert. Having no desire to be cornered or quarantined by incoming waters, I made for softer sands.
It was an otherwise prepossessing early summer morning. The first of the year that allowed for a reduction to a single layer of clothing. Yet for the first time since calling this place home, I felt an unease that bordered on unbidden.
Nonetheless, I continued my walk, a safe distance from the water but towards an encompassing fogbank ahead. While attempting to place my observations into any sequences of sense, I noticed that this particular fogbank on this most isolated of mornings, was unusually foreboding. And I got the sudden nervous feeling that whatever was causing the ocean’s erratic and worried behaviors, may very well be cloaked somewhere within the seemingly impenetrable grey.
My blood ran cold as I pivoted and started back for the car. Soon after, I turned around to observe the fogbank again and was pleased to see it not in pursuit. However, it was now haunted by barely perceptible, shifting shadows that possessed aspects of my own shape and form. Dark figures whispering in familiar voices, mimicking my inner thoughts and outer movements.
In that instant, all the messages and meanings of the morning were made clear. My demons had found me again and were once more lying in wait.
I’ve always viewed them as unwelcome hitchhikers. Who, particularly in times like these, I find traveling together in my backseat despite the lack of invitation. But perhaps it is time to warmly greet and accept, instead of attempting to outrun them. After all, they were born from me and I should get to know them better instead of ignoring their cries for attention.
The fog began to lighten and lift, and I beckoned. "Come out of the darkness, my children, and visit with me in the sunshine."