There's something undeniably healing about the ocean—the salty air that clings to your skin, the way the waves roll in and out like a steady heartbeat, as if the sea itself is breathing. It doesn't rush. It doesn't worry. It just is. And somehow, standing here, I feel like I can borrow some of that peace, let it settle in my chest, where the weight of the world usually sits.
Time slows down here. Not in a dramatic, everything-comes-to-a-stop kind of way, but in a quiet, unspoken shift. Worries seem smaller, like they shrink the moment they touch the water. The waves remind me of something I often forget—life keeps moving, no matter what. The tides don't ask for permission to come and go. They just do. Maybe I should learn from them.
I dig my toes into the sand, letting the warmth seep in
