Sand falls through your fingers marking time in a granulated fashion by definition. The grains of the sands represent time, opportunity and fortune. The sands of the beach are brilliant moments of basic pleasure basking in the sun while reminding us that those moments are numbered. Whatever you can hold, can fall through your fingers. No. Not like water, sand is chaffing. In this way, sand has a mortality quality. Ultimately, the last sand will drop on everyone. Think of how many ways your life has been reset so far. Each reset can be seen as the completion of an hourglass marking the chapters you have lived through.
Sand is a filter. The water that runs through your fingers and through the sand becomes purified, scrubbed clean by the silicon chips that are the dirt of the beach. So while the sand falling through our fingers marks the inevitable turning of the wheel, when we fall through the sand, we return scoured and clean. In this way, sand is hopeful. Falling through sand is something of a trial by fire. You can be renewed.
A week of sand is a lot of hourglasses if I look back on all the roads I have taken to get to here. There’s always hope that some aspect of my life isn’t timed or limited, but looking back I fail to see an example of that. Every phase passes. I ebb and flow. But maybe, just maybe, a week of sand offers a fresh exfoliated opportunity at something built better. Maybe there is something enduring after all.
Don’t worry about me. I’m not sad or worried about it. I just wish I could see things clearly so that whatever drama could unfold, it won’t. Who needs that. Empires rise and empires fall. Some things are enduring. The rest is marked by sand in an hourglass. I enjoyed being in the sun. I think I could get used to it.