You could call it coincidence—
or synchronicity.
You choose.
I wasn’t planning to,
but a voice—
a feeling, really—
told me:
Bike to the beach.
So I bundled up
and went.
I don’t usually
leave my bike unattended,
but that feeling whispered,
It’s okay. Go sit on that rock.
Pray. Meditate.
So I did.
A woman,
silvery mane blowing in the wind,
was there too,
several small boulder-rocks
(perfect for sitting)
away.
I meditated
(imperfectly)—
long slow exhales,
gentle inhales.
I prayed
(imperfectly)
for many things,
including well-being, health, love, peace,
and compassion for all beings.
And I was drawn to her.
I even had this strange urge
to photograph her—
sitting there,
almost enveloped by the tide.
(I didn’t.)
Turns out
she was drawn to me too.
Each of us,
seemingly serene,
two souls meditating
by the sea.
I started to take slow steps back
to my bike,
careful not to disturb her.
Yet somehow still
we smiled at each other,
exchanged a few words—
I’m local,
she was visiting from Seattle,
here to see family.
This is a special spot.
“Could you take a picture of me?”
she asked.
I did.
A couple, actually.
“I’m happy to take more
if you don’t like these…”
We started to part ways.
I began to walk away.
“Could you take one more?”
she whispered,
pulling out a silver tin bottle,
elegant and sleek.
“These are my husband’s ashes,”
she said.
“I want to have something
to remember this moment by.”
“Do you want a video?” I asked—
that feeling again, nudging me.
She nodded, choking up.
La mar opened her arms
in a tender embrace –
a reunion of salty tears.
After, she thanked me
and told me
five years ago
she and her husband
had scattered their son’s ashes
here,
at Lamoine Beach.
Now she was alone—
her elderly aunt and uncle
nearby,
but unable to make the trek.
It felt like the moment
to give her space.
So I turned,
started to walk away,
holding back sobs,
tears streaking my face.
“Wait,” she called.
“What’s your name?”
“Kalindi.”
And she was Linda.
Even our names—
almost the same.
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-two.”
“That’s how old my son
would have been…”
We hugged –
hearts entwining,
with each other,
and the sea,
and all loved ones,
all beings,
near and far.
Coincidence?
Or fate?
Heartbreak?
Or magic?
I walked down the beach,
past my bike—
a young couple sunbathing,
three black labs sniffing and pooping,
a family of seagulls
napping on the sand
after lunch.
I touched the cold, salty waves
with my fingertips
and brought them to my forehead—
a communion,
divinity visiting
in the warmth
sliding down my ribcage.
The day goes on—
ordinary,
and not.