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This morning I returned to the stone bench, a quiet perch between ocean, rock, and sky. With a simple watercolor kit in hand, I sketched while something deeper unfolded: my body alive with signals, a hum of presence, a layering of threads quietly weaving into form.
In this reflection, I share what it feels like to sit in a place where life doesn’t just whisper, it sings. How even the smallest plein air sketch carries forward the resonance of the moment. And how alignment isn’t a chase or a puzzle, but a quiet yes that moves through the body like a tide.
Come sit with me on the edge of the sea, and remember what it feels like to simply receive.
By Lisa ElleyThis morning I returned to the stone bench, a quiet perch between ocean, rock, and sky. With a simple watercolor kit in hand, I sketched while something deeper unfolded: my body alive with signals, a hum of presence, a layering of threads quietly weaving into form.
In this reflection, I share what it feels like to sit in a place where life doesn’t just whisper, it sings. How even the smallest plein air sketch carries forward the resonance of the moment. And how alignment isn’t a chase or a puzzle, but a quiet yes that moves through the body like a tide.
Come sit with me on the edge of the sea, and remember what it feels like to simply receive.