Salt Water

Photo by The Curated Feast

“if the ocean can calm itself, so can you. we are both salt water mixed with air.” Salt // Nayyirah Waheed

I’ve been thinking about stories — how they are never really fixed. How they are simultaneously owned and modified by all of us, collectively. And just like the ocean’s tides, ideas also come and go, they leave certain traces in their wake, if you know what to look for. It’s in following those traces and predicting the next tidal rhythm that I find my bliss.

I’ve been exploring the intertidal zones, where the most important and residual stories of cultures always lie. This is why I love food and mythology. From the the earliest cycles that we humans observed, we have attempted to make meaning of our lives and our experiences.

This weekend I’ve been a bit under the weather — and I have my own stories that run through my head when my body is doing a reset. This is the ebb to my preferred state: flow. Do you feel that way sometimes, too?

But the ever-healing sun and sea have been my remedy (plus lots of steamy eucalyptus showers, hot water with fresh ginger + local honey + squeezed backyard lemons, and plenty of rest). Next weekend, my toes will be touching the Atlantic. Im taking a quick weekend jaunt to the east coast to celebrate the life of a dear friend and kindred soul. I’m already eager to feel the shore of a distant sea and learn the stories it has to offer.