Gift from the Sea

Yesterday, I was reminded of one of my favorite little tomes of all time, Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. We had a family boating day, and while my husband and my middle son were silently fishing, my eldest son and my daughter and I swam over to a tiny little island to explore what treasures might be found. My gift from the sea, yesterday, was a lovely, surprisingly vivid, pink feather. My gift from the sun, yesterday, was a not-so-lovely pink sunburn. We used up an entire can of 50 level sunscreen, and yet still, the entire family is donning our (in various shades of pinkish tan, all the way to glaring red), badges of shame. It’s disconcerting to reach the age in life, where you have lived an entire cycle of boastful pride to shameful mortification, for the exact same behaviors. When I was a kid, having a tan was a badge of pride and honor. Any level of obvious sun exposure to your skin, suggested that you were lucky and prosperous enough to visit somewhere (even if it was just the neighborhood pool) to have enough leisure time to lay out and bake in the sunshine. We didn’t have iPads or phone games back then, so picking at our peeling skin was a strangely satisfying past-time. Now to be clear, I have witnessed family members and friends, deal with various degrees of skin cancer, so I know that where we are in the cycle of “it is shameful to have a suntan”, is where we should probably stay. Progress is not a backwards motion. Lately, it seems to me that rapid changes in societal beliefs and technological advances and scientific discoveries are happening at such warp speed, that it makes me feel like perhaps in a lot of ways, in a lot of my life, I was doing everything entirely wrong, and that I was often looking at things through a faulty, cloudy lens. But that’s not really true, is it? Growth happens all of the time. We start from a tiny little speck and we grow from there, constantly being influenced by internal and external forces, that help mold us into our latest uploads and versions of ourselves. We are works in progress, all of us, and that is true of all living things. Most of us are doing the very best we that we can, every single day. We deserve to give ourselves a break, like perhaps a relaxing day on the beach. Only next time when I give myself a restful day outside, I’ll bring two cans of sunscreen and a wider-brimmed hat. I’m not too prideful, to learn and grow from my experiences, in order to become the latest, best version of me.