The Ocean's Breaking Point

"The sea always filled her with longing, though for what she was never sure."— Cornelia Funke (Inkheart)

I owe the idea for this post to a friend who entitled his blog "The Breaking Point." You know when you see a title and immediately have an image in your mind of what the book or article will be about? That happened to me. But as I read on, I discovered that, although excellent, the post was not remotely close to what was triggered in my mind by the title. So I decided to do my own post about what this reminded me of.

I was recently in California, visiting a friend. While there, I renewed my acquaintance with another very old friend of mine, whom I have loved since I first saw her. Whenever I stand on a shoreline or beach with the smell and feel of salt spray blowing in my face and the roar of pounding waves in my ears, I want to toss my arms wide and laugh out loud with the sheer majesty of the ocean before me.

I can't seem to get enough of the various sensations that surround me when I am near the ocean. I am fascinated and a little fearful of the awesome power portrayed by the huge mass of water. Another part of my love affair with the ocean is its constant pounding movement.

Now to address my visualization upon reading the words "Breaking Point" earlier today. One dictionary entry defines it thus: "break·ing point: n. the moment of greatest strain at which someone or something gives way."

I don't know a whole lot about the ocean, living in a land-locked state as I do, but I imagine the very top of the white water wave, the exact moment where the wave is the highest, before the millions of water droplets go crashing into the main body of water. This is the "breaking point". And I remember those moments in my life. The "breaking point" moments just when I come crashing down. But you know what? All is calm for awhile then, until the next wave. That is life. And isn't it beautiful?