Pacific Waves1

I have some favorite spots by the ocean. Many times I follow those ocean side trails or just sit up-close to watch waves playfully hitting the rocks. Pacific here is not calm, but truly magical after the rain. The waves fall, break, spread their water swiftly, withdraw and fall again, like the entire process is in harmony.

It’s inspiring even when I think about what all goes under those waves. Under the surface of the ocean, particles spin as the wind moves on. On the outside those waves collapse following their rhythm. Continuously. Without stopping. Sometimes even whole day is not enough to see, record or photograph their beauty.

Pacific Waves2

Once I was in New York and some of my friends took me to a place little far from the hustle and bustle of Manhattan. There was not enough light by the shore but it was a full moon evening. There was music in the air and a hundred of happy feet were matching their steps to that tune. The sound of the river was clear and the air was cold. After some time, all of a sudden the music stopped, but nobody ended their dancing. They continued as if they were following some unknown rhythm. It was magical too. I love when people find their inner rhythm and don’t stop dancing. I love when people can dance for hours without any music.

Pacific Waves3

In life I have seen a few people like that. People who have found their inner rhythm and they followed that without getting affected by any external nuisance. My mom is one example. Caring for others is her rhythm. She talks to everyone she knows. She helps someone in need even when she is not well. She calls me at the same time. She wakes up, and finishes all her work at the same time every single day. As if nothing, really nothing can bother her. As if her life is a big wave of pacific ocean in rhythm.

I know many poets who have the power to find their rhythm in the heart of every odd thing they come across. I see some of my friends progressing to their dreams, like they always knew where they wanted to be. As magical they all sound, I realized, finding that rhythm is the truest gift of life.

Author: Archita

Musings about life and photography.

4 thoughts on “Rhythm”

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