On Sunday morning (5/6/12) my lower back was still tight from the night before. I craved spine circles in the soft sand knowing it would cradle and massage my aching muscles. Sheila was sitting on the hard sand flattened by the water that had been there hours before. I walked over to tell her before choosing a spot.
“Sheila, I need to move in the soft sand.”
“I know, baby.”
What did she know? That my back hurt from last night. That the hard sand hurt my body. That my body loved the way it responded and massaged out the kinks. All of the above?
Sheila continued. “I’ll be here, in the hard sand…with everyone else. There’s not enough room up there in the soft sand.”
No, not in a circle, that’s true. I thought.
I settled at the top of the beach in the three foot ribbon of sugar fine sand. I began spine waves in rhythm with the ocean. The sand began to give under my butt forming a curved, soft seat. After awhile, I switched to slow spine circles. A few to the right. A few to the left. I lost count. With each one my back began to ease. The ache in my soul from the crying the day and night before began to seep into the sand as well.
I watched late arrivals wander onto the beach, wondering if anyone might join me in the soft sand. It felt soooo good.
But no one did.
I got lost in my super slow inverted spine circles. Mesmerized by the view of the setting moon as I luxuriously stretched my right side. And the yellow orange glow that promised the sun would be making it’s appearance soon as I stretched my left.
The beach went on for miles in each direction. There actually was plenty of room for all of us in the soft sand if we sat next to each other. I had an image of girls holding hands while skipping together. We could still be feminine in a line. Though I understood that some of the women wouldn’t be as comfortable spread out rather than clustered together as they were now. (See picture at top of page – my front view).
I stripped off my shirt at one point to enjoy the balmy air on my skin. Not long after a man walked between me and the group. He stared straight ahead, swinging his arms and speeding up his pace as he passed through our tunnel of female energy. Others altered their path by walking closer to the water.
I didn’t want to stop spine circling but took a break to snap the photos. I put my shirt back on and switched to cat cow rolls and rocking cats to generate some heat.
I slipped onto my back to prance with the moon. The pink glow filled me with joy.
Still I longed for playmates. In my mind’s eye I saw prancing legs down the beach like a supine version of the Rockettes.
Maybe next time, if I ask others to join me they might. I didn’t think of it in the moment. I wonder if the others thought I wanted to be alone.
How about it, Kiawah Sisters?
What did you think of me playing in the soft sand by myself? Did you think I wanted to be alone? Did you want to join me in the softer sand? Would you have if I had invited you?
Note: I’ve enable comments, but may have to disable them if I get bombarded with spam. I’ll also post the link on facebook, I’d really love to hear your responses.
I saw you there. I could feel that you needed the softness, but wasn’t sure if you wanted to be alone or not. I needed to be surrounded by Sisters. The hard sand hurt my knees so I didn’t go to my knees that morning. Not sure if I would have joined you or not. I needed to be surrounded, but needed to be alone too that morning. I walked a lot alone down the beach after my stretching.