The sound of water is one of the most peaceful, healing forces in my life. I love to listen to fountains, waterfalls and oceans. They have so much to tell.
"Let go," they say, in a resounding chorus. "Accept the ebb and flow of things. Quit fighting and float. Allow life to unfold. Don't push the river--it knows exactly where to go."
I adore hot baths. Hot tubs. The cold, take-your-breath-away rush of jumping into natural springs. I even love the sound of those pivoting sprinklers. They're a signal that very thirsty ground is soaking up exactly what it needs. This give-and-take invites me to consider that perhaps I'll get what I need, too.
Thunderstorms are my favorite. Somehow they make me feel safe, which is a little surprising because many people have the opposite reaction. A rainy day gives me permission to slow down a bit, take a book to bed, watch an old movie. Sometimes I just sit on the back porch and watch the wind and the rain and the swaying trees have a fascinating three-way conversation. Somehow, storms stop (or at least slow down) time for me.
I mostly swim laps for exercise. I love it because it shuts out the common, everyday world and submerges me in a muted universe where the laws of gravity are suspended and my restless mind can wander. No agenda. No problem solving. No noise but splashing. Just jump in, glide, feel and listen.