Were Pen – Where Are You?

   I packed, unpacked, and re-packed.  I wanted to be sure I had everything I would need for the trip to Mudjimba.  The only problem was that I had no idea what I’d need, because I wasn’t really sure where I was going.  

   “Triton’s coral? Check. Granola bars? Check. Change of clothes & shoes? Clean socks & underwear?  Check & check. Sunflower seeds? Check.  30 SPF sunscreen? Check. Chocolate? Check.  Ibuprophen? Check. Water bottle? Check. Extra juice? Check.”  I wasn’t sure what would happen after I arrived on the island, but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t starve, get sunburned, or be dehydrated.  I was ready for anything. I hoped.

   I swam through the beautiful blue waters and surfaced on a gorgeous beach, perfect temperature, puffy cottonball clouds, bird calls I didn’t quite recognize.  I had landed in paradise!

Mudjuimba Beach, Queensland

 

   I slathered myself with coconut-scented sunscreen and walked along the beach, picking up pretty sea shells, playing tag with the lapping waves.  I followed the shoreline, and as I came around a cove, I saw her:  the Sand Dreaming Woman.

“Drifting with the Current” – Sand Sculpture in St. Petersberg, Russia (Yahoo News Story), by Tatyana Kuznetsova and Vsevolod Averkiev

 

   I wondered who had built this, and why.  A local woman was standing behind the sculpture and said, “She’s a beaut, all right.”

   “Yes,” I agreed, “but who is she?”

   “She’s the Sand Dreamer.  She sits and she watches the tides go in and out.  Day and night, good and bad, then and now, she’s seen it all.  Whatever happens, happens.”

   “What if there’s a storm?  She’ll wash away.”

   “Then she washes away.  Nothing lasts forever.”

   “That’s sad. They should build a wall, like a levee, to protect her for posterity,” I suggested.

   “I don’t think the Sand Dreamer would want that.  The story goes, Sandra Coomer was a real woman, whose motto was, ’This, too shall pass.’  If Sandra were happy, she knew that joy would fade before long.  If she were heart-broken, she knew, if she could just hold on awhile, some day things would be better.  Even on her death bed, Sandra said, “My life has been a great, strange dream, sometimes odd and frightening, sometimes mysterious and beautiful, like the mesmerizing coral reefs under the sea – but I wouldn’t have missed it – even the hard parts – for anything!  Yet, as I always said,  ’This, too shall pass.’”

   I thanked the woman for telling me the Sand Dreamer’s story.  I reminded myself not to waste time, to stop and appreciate the gift of life often.  “Every day is a blessing,” “Nothing last forever,” “This, too, shall pass,”: I wanted to write these sayings down, like a prayer or a chant, before I forgot them.  I dug in my pack and found my journal, but…

   I couldn’t find my Were-Pen!  “Claire, where are you?  Were-Pen, I need you!  I know I packed you! I checked! Where are you?  I can’t write without my pen.”  I was in full panic mode now. 

   I looked at the silent, serene Sand Dreamer sculpture and muttered, “Yeah, I know, ‘this too shall pass’, but you don’t understand. I’m a writer – I live to write and write to live!  

   “WERE-PEN?  WHERE ARE YOU?” I yelled.

 

Kerry Vincent (c) 2008