From “The Human Condition: A User’s Manual,” by Arnold Kunst
I am capable of behaving like a crabby child who needs, but hasn’t had, his nap. Sometimes I need to replentish my well because I’m carrying about with me all the problems in the world – a cut-throat business environment, a difficult marriage, unruly teenagers, you name it.
So I head off to the beach. And like a crabby child I’m capable of demanding that that beach show me some real answers. But I notice vaguely that nobody turned it on when I arrived, or will turn it off after I leave. So also, that beach doesn’t acknowledge my pain in the least. Instead I find myself wiggling my toes in the sand, the waves slushing at my feet, the gulls “Caw, caw, caw-ing” overhead, I taste the salt on my lips, an ever-clensed shore is clensed yet again by an ever-clensing sea. And when I go away from that special place I find that my problems are not answered at all.
Instead, my soul is fed.