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SEA LION AND GULL |
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“The sea does not exist! This is as close to a sea
as you will ever get.” All morning, Sea lion listened to
his friend, but he could not be swayed. It was time. Sea Lion knew it was
time. He turned his back on Tortoise and
all his reasons why Sea Lion should settle down where he was and make the
desert his home. “I’m going to find my sea,” he said. The tortoise laughed. He laughed
until he shook. He laughed so hard that he rolled over onto his back and
chipped his shell on a rock. Then Tortoise wasn’t laughing. Sea Lion turned and flippered away. “Where are you going? Where the hell do you think
you’re going?" Tortoise screamed. But Sea Lion didn’t answer. His
head was firmly lifted to catch the scent of a sea breeze blowing in from
over the distant mountains. “You think you’re too good for this desert? Is that
it? All this sand is not enough for you, hey? You gotta
have water? What is so good about being wet anyway?” Sea Lion smiled to himself, but he
did not turn back. What was
so good about being wet? Sea Lion already knew the answer
to that question. Though he had been away from his sea for so long that he
wasn’t sure it existed anymore, though he could barely remember the sensation
of floating, though he could hardly imagine the coolness of the waters, he
did know one thing. He knew he was made to be wet. That one thing seemed
enough to know. So, Sea lion began his journey to
his sea. All day, Sea Lion pulled his body
through the sands. Rocks scraped his underbelly until he bled. By nightfall
the tortoise and his questions were far behind but Sea Lion was not sure he
was any nearer to his elusive sea at all. His slept fitfully that night. It
was the sleep of one who has traveled far and still has far to travel. Next morning the breeze woke Sea
Lion with its call. Salt. He could taste the salt. Lifting himself from the
ground he again lumbered through the desert. Day after day Sea Lion pulled
and pushed his way over rock. The howling windstorms caused the sand to bite
into his flesh by day, but he kept going. He slept by the light of a cruel
moon that hung itself in a freezing night sky, but he kept going. Under the
burning eye of an angry sun, he moved forward. Sea Lion lost count of the days as
they fizzled in the heat. He lost count of how many cuts he had and how much
his body ached. Everything began to blur into one great pain. Each mountain
he climbed gave way to another mountain. Valley after valley. Rock after sand
after rock. One blue I am all alone, he thought. There
is no way I will ever reach my sea. My dream is as cruel as the cactus that
cut my flesh, as intangible as the mirages that tease me with promise of
water. For days he cried, tears mingling
with the dirt until mud began to form around him. Having eaten nothing more
than a bit of this and a piece of that, Sea Lion was altogether wrinkled,
burnt and dying. He may never have lifted his head
again, had it not been for Gull. From a fog like state, where Sea
Lion’s thoughts mingled with his sadness, a call sounded from the sky. “Looka-loooka-looka!”
Gull screeched circling above Sea Lion’s withered body. With the last of his will, Sea
Lion lifted his head to the sky. Again Gull called. Sea Lion’s head flopped back to
earth. The bird flew to the ground beside
him and pecked away with her questions, until finally Sea Lion whispered, “Go
away you, you… bird thing, whatever you are. Can’t you see I am finished?” Gull looked at Sea Lion with a
beady gaze. “Finished what?” she asked. Sea Lion didn’t remember what was
supposed to be finished, so he said the first thing that came to his head, “I
am finished with moving.” “Oh. I see. No… I don’t see. How can you be
finished moving? Creatures move. That is what we do. What are you anyway?” It was a fine question. What
indeed? Sea Lion could not remember that he was in fact a sea lion, but he
did know his name. “Sea Lion,” he said. “Then it seems to me, Mr. S-e-a Lion,
that you are in need of the sea.” Sea Lion shrugged. “The only sea I
see is the sand. A sea of sand.” Gull looked around at the green
grass and the handsome pine tress with moss clinging to their legs. She saw
the way the river skipped over the pebbles and the soft hands of the wind
that stroked the pine needles of the tallest pines and the leaves of the fern
carpet on the ground. “Sand?” she asked. “Yes, sand!” Sea Lion said, “And the sand hurts!” “Ahh. Tell me about your
sand.” For a very long time, much longer
than the day and the night combined, Sea Lion told Gull about every place he
hurt. He told her how far he had traveled, about the mountains that mocked
him, the sand that cut into his skin, about the aloneness under the
unforgiving sun. He told her how the moon hung itself in a cold sky every
night and simply stared at him. Finally, he told Gull of Tortoise and his
sneering. Gull nodded. Sea Lion wondered if
she had met a Tortoise herself. But he did not ask. He kept talking. On and
on he talked. Many times Gull was moved to
tears, but she did not leave him. She sat there on the bright green earth and
nodded her head. Occasionally she asked questions, but mostly she listened. When finally all the words were
spoken the day began to cool and the sky turned a soft
lemonade. Sea Lion sat in the stillness with Gull beside him… and just
breathed. Gull breathed too. It was a fine afternoon for
breathing. Sea Lion even smiled a little. It
was nice to tell all about his sand. It felt good to tell his stories, even
though they were sad. A sadness told is lighter somehow, not brighter, but
not so heavy in the heart. A little something lifted inside Sea Lion. Someone
stayed with him long enough to hear everything he had to say. How blessed he
was to have found this bird thing, whatever it was. When words were spoken again, it
was Gull who talked. “Where are you now?” she asked. “In the desert, bird. Haven’t you been listening?” “I have. But… does this desert of yours look like
green buds or taste like the spray of a wave? Does it sound like the river
that runs into the arms of an open ocean? Does it talk like the Sea Gulls of
the air?” Gull was wise you see, and she
knew that the best answers are given when we discover for ourselves where we
really are. For the first time since Sea Lion
had collapsed on the earth, he looked around him. Wild flowers peeked through
the moss and the fresh air neither burned his skin nor froze his
whiskers. “No,” he said. “This does not look like my desert
at all.” Gull let that thought sit with him
awhile as Gull was apt to do. Finally, Sea Lion grinned until
the grin became a smile and the smile, a laugh. Gull laughed too. “You’re a seagull aren’t you?” he
asked, but Gull didn’t need to answer. Already happiness settled around them.
For through the trees, Sea Lion could make out the distant sight of waves. “You mean to say that I am almost there?” he asked. Gull simply smiled. Sea Lion turned towards the waves. “Where are you going?” she asked. “To my sea,” he said, and away he went. Gull watched him go smiling the
largest smile a gull can smile. “Go well then,” she called after him. But Sea
Lion was gone. By the edge of his water, Sea Lion
stood, taking it all in. The water was so blue it looked as if a summer’s sky
had been squeezed into it. Tentatively he approached the first waves. Would
the sea be welcoming, or would it reject a Sea Lion who for so long forgot
where his home was? Would he find other sea lions who understood what it was
like to be so lost and then so very found? Would he have a chance to share
his story, to tell others about the desert, and how a dream can call you from
deep inside your being? He did not know. Who can know these things? For the
future holds its treasures, his heartaches and it joys, deep in the palm of
its hand. Yesterday has walked away. But today, Sea Lion knew, was all he
had. And today was his day. A proud
day to be a Sea Lion who had finally journeyed to the very edge of his Sea. From high above him Gull circled,
watching his every move, until Sea Lion slipped beneath the waves. Gull
circled one more time, and then flew off, a settled feeling in her heart. She
knew about the ocean, but not what was beneath the water. That was Sea Lion’s
world. She could not go where he was going. It was right of course, because
some creatures’ fly and others swim. Sometimes if they are blessed, they may
meet each other on the edges of oceans and talk awhile. Perhaps even walk
awhile. The passion for water is in them both, but when the time comes, a Sea
Lion must go to his sea and a Gull to her sky.
~ May you swim if you swim, and fly
if you fly, and always have time for those on the edge of their oceans, those
found in the space between the blue above and the blue below. Written by: Tabitha
Bird
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