#sandcastles

Life is a beach: beautiful and enchanting to the utmost. You search the entire shore looking for something special, something different. And then by what seems to be divine intervention, you find it. Like a sea shell you just can't take your eyes off of. And I mean that sea shell is perfect. So you stop dead in your tracks and never even think twice about where you've sat yourself.

Have you ever built a sand castle? You're on the beach! Look at what you've got to work with! So many possibilities, and you know exactly what you want. It doesn't take long to conjure up the most extravagant structure ever fathomed. It's got sticks and rocks and behold, that dazzling little sea shell is the center piece. It's so big that you've created a deficit of sand in every direction as far as the eye can see. But you don't know the difference because you can't look past that shell, that gorgeous little shell.

The wind blows, and the skies change, but you're still lost in the majesty of your castle. The storm hits and you're painfully reminded that it's always just been sand. You watch as waves wash away your everything, and make an executive decision to leave the beach, indefinitely.

You're so devastated by the everyday occurrences in nature. But the real devastation is that you convinced yourself the cycle would stop for you. How could you be so naive? How could you be so silly? How could you be so stupid?

But the Sun does come out (one of the more fortunate events in nature). You don't want to go back and examine the damage, but a part of you knows it's unavoidable. The beach doesn't even look the same, perhaps because the sand has been equally reapportioned again. Your castle is no where to be found, but your shell is right there where you were forced to leave it. You start to think that maybe it should stay there, but quickly realize that the beach is less beautiful when you don't have your shell. And so you go back. The Sun shines brightly on it's newly acquired scratches, but it's still just as precious as you can remember.

How many sea shells are there on a beach? And there's gotta be one that shines brighter, too. None of that seems to matter, though; you don't want a new one. It won't be the same. And even deeper, how could you ever let go of the old one, your first one.

You don't know what you'll do with that shell now. Sometimes you want to destroy it and everything it stands for, except that's not too far from destroying yourself. It's crossed your mind to think up some new architecture, but it's always just been sand.

It's always just been sand.

So you'll wonder along the shore like in the beginning, but it's not back to square one. There's no telling what will become of you and your shell, but there is a most comforting hope. The Sun is still shining.