It’s That Simple: Near the Sea we Should be Free.

“Doesn’t it seem to you,” asked Madame Bovary, “that the mind moves more freely in the presence of that boundless expanse, that the sight of it elevates the soul and gives rise to thoughts of the infinite and the ideal?”

Gustave Flaubert

Last Sunday I visited the sea, a dreamy small cove, enclosed by high rocks without a far view on the Mediterranean. This somewhat hidden beach feels like a well-kept secret, but the amount of people and the signs “playa cala Pi” tell me it’s far from that. Yet, as soon as I descend the long stairs, surrounded by rocks and trees, some happy changes are happening in my overthinking head.  

A few people were wearing masks to protect themselves from Covid-19 that’s still flying around.

They have forgotten the sea is about freedom.

When we are near the sea we breathe in the fresh air. We taste our salty lips. We stick our toes in the sand and we expose our tired and pale skin to the summer sun. 

There’s no need to mull it over. The sea is about leaving our worries behind. The sea is about being playful, just like the seagulls soaring above the beach, effortless and cheeky, always on the hunt for a lost little snack. Heaviness doesn’t exist near the sea, only a breezy air full of possibilities and dreams live here. 

The sea teaches us that nothing lasts forever, not even this lazy Sunday afternoon in this magical cove that I don’t want to end, but will fade away as soon as the sun disappears behind the rocks. The good thing is, I can come back to this. I live on an island, so the sea will always be there. Coming back resets my mind.

Not long ago I woke up each morning with sea-sounds and chatty seagulls. I enjoyed every minute of it and over the years I have experienced the sea is both whimsical and steady. In summer she was bubbly, refreshing and vibrant. In winter, when all people where gone, she was mystical and moody at times. She could rage ferociously with waves reaching to the end of the beach, almost impossible to walk without having wet shoes and ankles. I loved to be her witness on such moments, safely from my window, or, if I dared to come closer, with wet feet in the sand, watching the pulling and pushing force of the water. 

The storms above sea were spectacular, I saw them coming in, looming on the horizon, when they were still miles away, already announcing themselves. The dark and heavy clouds and rain approaching from above sea until raindrops were finally tapping on my window.

Read this story that takes you to the sea, here.💙

Con Amor,


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