“The loneliness you get by the sea is personal and alive. It doesn’t subdue you and make you feel abject. It’s stimulating loneliness.” — Anne Morrow Lindbergh
I connected immediately with Lindbergh’s words in the quote. I’m seldom if ever at the sea all alone, but it always wraps me in a calming sense of solitude. Maybe it’s the immensity of it, underscoring my relatively insignificant presence. Or maybe it’s the sights, sounds, scents and sensations; the rare setting that taps into all five of our senses, leaving the faint taste of salt in our mouths.
In any case, as Lindbergh describes, the loneliness I feel by the sea is never an unpleasant experience. In my case, I think it may be the paradox inherent in feeling, through such rich isolation, the presence of deity. It’s as if I am experiencing the omnipresence of God in a highly personal yet universal way. I realize that may sound like so much new-age doubletalk, but if you’ve ever had the sensation yourself, you will know what I mean.
In any case, I wish for you today the stimulating loneliness of the sea (so like that of the sky), if only in memory or imagination. As we share the common experience of sanctified solitude, we are brought together in the unending mystery of being part of a vast sea of global humanity, each of us remaining unique, and uniquely loved by God.