fragile together
- Anonymous
“Try imagining a place where it's always safe and warm
Come in, she said...I'll give you, shelter from the storm” - Bob Dylan
Music feeds my soul. The power of music to connect, move, and inspire was imprinted on my 6-year old spirit when a few albums were the only friends I had in Russia. Sometimes songs that you’ve heard many times take on a different meaning – when you are ready to hear them.
I spent decades building a tough outer shell. Society rewards you for getting stuff done. On the other hand, there is not a lot of validation for learning how to understand and process your feelings. Life gets really busy - work, raising kids, buying houses - and it is easy to lose sight of your true north star.
Then events happen to shake you to the core – pushing the first domino in a process that if you are open to it, becomes the start of a transformation.
“Might be a quarter life crisis, or just a stirring in my soul” - John Mayer
It’s an interesting thing about transformations. They are not scheduled. They are like storms. Ordinary things you’ve experienced before take on a different amplitude.
After ending a long term relationship, I moved to San Diego in February stoked to discover a rad new city and to focus on personal growth. The virus had other plans. The only thing left after the beaches and gyms closed were hikes around Balboa Park.
One crisp morning after a raging winter storm, while surrounded by a grove of swaying trees, I heard The Who lyrics for the gazillionth time. This time, it felt like Pete Townsend was yelling his powerful lyrics at me:
“ …God there’s got to be a better way…Well, who are you, who, who, who...I really wanna know…Alright, who the fuck are you?” - The Who
It was a powerful moment where I felt a wave wash over me. Not a little warm wave on a sunny afternoon at Blacks. More like a big fattie in cold water that sends you to the bottom and all you see is darkness and you wonder if you are going to come up again to taste the sweet air you took for granted a few seconds ago...I stopped dead in my tracks to reflect on what Pete was asking me. Stripped of all my normal distractions - work, travel, physical activity, girlfriend - I was not sure of what my answer was at that moment.
Those words were the “wind in my sail” as I dove deep into re-discovering myself. Unlike what you read/see, a spiritual awakening is not a smooth nor easy process. You are not sitting criss-cross applesauce in beautiful meadow contemplating and finding enlightenment. You are more likely to find yourself in pieces on the living room floor, face covered in dried streaks of salty water, not even sure why your eyes were leaking, and more importantly how the fuck to get up and what to do next.
This process has a lot of parallels to surfing: portrayed by the media with sunkissed and ripped guys getting barreled in perfect blue water….girls in tiny bikinis ripping waves to shreds. The reality of surfing is a lot more gritty and harder to sell: a lot of paddling in crowded line ups while mother ocean beats the shit out of you and you are left wondering if you are ever going to have the pleasure of riding her energy with grace.
For me, this transformation has been intense.
You see, I mastered putting on “masks” to navigate life’s challenges…I survived being monitored by the KGB, kids kicking my ass in Russia because I was a “dirty Jew”, being hungry because there was no food to eat in Russia and bombs blowing up people in front of me in Israel. The mask is a powerful coping mechanism. You get so used to wearing them, you get validation for your masks and in the process, you forget who you are at your core.
My process of rediscovering my north star continues to unfold in a rad little town of Ocean Beach. This town has a real community and a soul to it – fertile ground for a spiritual awakening.
Mother ocean has played a key role in this process – she wraps me in her loving arms, lets me work it out, and provides the simple joy of riding her energy. She does not judge. She does not compare. There is no tomorrow, no yesterday – just the right/here/right now. Tears are not as obvious when you are covered in salt water.
My work, including my daily baptism at the end of Newport Avenue, continues to unfold at a kind pace.
I am not tough.
I am fragile.
I am vulnerable.
My life was held together with
thoughts of where I might be tomorrow
And of disappointed yesterdays
At any moment,
I might shatter
I may fall to my knees
Weighed down by the terror
of being so far from my control
Dare I lookup,
I wouldn’t know
where to go or what to do
If we were to turn to each other,
we might see the whole world
on their knees
Hurting, and seemingly alone
But none of us are
We are fragile together
“And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured
I'll always do my best for her, on that I give my word
In a world of steel-eyed death, and men who are fighting to be warm
Come in, she said
I'll give ya shelter from the storm”
- Bob Dylan