I looked into the sun and sneezed as my eyes watered and my face felt warm deep into my skull. A 5 year old really does not know any better. Mom held my hand as I cried, blood still fresh on my arm and my clothes. The doctor tried to ease the pain, but the cut was deep to the bone. A 10 year old and a new pocket knife are the first of many hard lessons one can only learn and not be taught.
As I looked out over the ocean towards a distant horizon, I became smaller as the world grew in size around me. The sun set and darkness fell upon the moonless waters. My hands disappeared before me. Startled by unfamiliar sounds and the roar of crashing waves, I sought refuge and safety within. Eyes closed, only the wind leaves tactile traces of the outside world. A waking dream. Floating on the ocean in a boat of own my making. At thirty one only begins to comprehend the scope of the universe and her place on Earth.
The time in between is perceived in growing increments of ever faster moving time. At 48 I remember seeing that 5 year old standing on the side of the road, her gaze always upwards. I remember the sun, the blood and the pain, laughter, love, the open ocean 100 miles from shore and a lifetime of living with spectacular highs and crushing lows. I look back and see that little girl is me and she is still looking to the sky and out in to the distance as the journey unfolds.