We are very fortunate to have a beach where we live. Locust trees provide for a little shade when we need it, and there are rarely any other people nearby. The absence of neighbors promotes contemplation, and the solitude invites childhood whimsies such as collecting sea glass.
Together, my husband and I have gathered almost three pounds of sea glass, which we keep in a jar in the kitchen window where the sun can play on it, creating constellations on the ceiling when the time is right.
Sea glass is so fascinating. Its translucence. Its pale warmth when held to the light. Its simplicity. We think of it as treasure, but it's just the product of broken glass bottles, smoothed over by years of erosion. Sea glass is evidence of the healing nature of time.
Time wears down the sharp edges of the glass, producing after years those soft edges that we cherish. Just as time smooths a broken piece of glass, time can also heal our own jagged edges. Stress, tragedy, and illness can shatter our souls, but with time and energy our trauma can be relieved. The glass is still glass, we are still ourselves, but when we do the work to heal, our perspectives can change. Without our once-sharp edges, we couldn't be who we are today.
By embracing the power and beauty of our new selves, we can begin to understand why we had to endure that stress, that tragedy, and that trauma. We can collect ourselves, stand back, and admire our treasure. We can watch how the light plays on the smooth surfaces of our healthy and happy souls.
“Time may smooth the stone, but time will never wear it away.” - Erin Hunter