I went to the beach this weekend and had a wonderful time. I love walking at the water’s edge and feeling the sand pulled away beneath my feet.
Roxy faced the water bravely but the waves were big and she is so short that I think after her first face splash she wasn’t too keen on it happening again, she did really seem to enjoy chasing the waves in and out though.
When I go to the beach I always look for shells, in particular I look for the kind that twists in on itself, I’m not sure what kind of creature lives in these shells, I guess sea hermit crabs?
Anyway, I found the BIGGEST one I have ever found it was beautiful, pale orange and super smooth and 3 times as big as any I have ever found. When I got back from my walk I triumphantly showed it to my boyfriend and his best friend Danny who, of course, were not as excited as I was “It’s broken, it’s a piece of shit- throw it back” were the exact words Danny used to describe it. I knew it was broken, but it looked so pretty anyway and it sounds so lame but I actually felt a pang of sadness when he pointed it out, I almost threw it back.
But I didn’t and as I type it sits on my monitor stand and looks beautiful and I don’t mind the blemishes one bit.
I guess since I have had such an awakening this year that something as simple as a shell has made me think a lot more than it would have in the past. Questions kept turning over in my mind:
· Why are we so obsessed with everything being perfect?
· Why is our automatic reaction to anything that is broken is that it’s a “piece of shit” especially something as trivial as a shell?
· What is the difference if it’s broken or whole? Is it somehow more aesthetically pleasing if it’s whole?
· Does it mess up the ZEN of the shell?
· Does anyone collect broken shells or are only the whole ones the special ones?
Also (this is probably the hippie in me speaking) but, aren’t we essentially stealing sea-hermit crab homes from their rightful owners? Are the whole ones prime hermit-crab real estate?