It was barely 8 am, the sun had risen, and the temperatures were already warm. As I looked out at the expansive ocean, the remaining tension seeped from my body into the hard sand beneath my feet. Though the morning started with joy and phenomenal peace, anxiety quickly crept into my psyche as sand clumped with shells proved difficult to form and shape. Saturday was practice day, I thought to myself. What if I couldn't make the sand work...tomorrow was the competition, I would surely embarrass myself in front of all of the much more experienced and more talented sculptors. What if...? What if..? What if...? My mind raced with self-doubt.
One of the great aspects of aging is that anxiety gives way to self-assurance far more quickly than when I was younger. After several failed attempts with the sand, I decided to stop practicing, enjoy the day and hope for better sand, tomorrow, at the site of the competition.
Sunday morning I was a bundle of nervous energy. Having never entered a competition, I arrived early to ensure I had time to register and to take a look around. The master sculptors were hard at work, building magnificent, creative sand scenes. Luckily, my sand area was much smaller and filled with a mere metric ton of sand that I would be moving and shaping. The solo masters are required to work with 10 tons of sand. This physical element of the competition has led many sculptors to suggest that this medium is a sport, as well as, an art form. My muscles agree!
Today, as I fly home to Indiana. My attitude is brighter, more confident, and at peace. This weekend, I challenged myself to follow a personal dream. Tomorrow, as I talk about and show pictures of my adventure to my students, I hope that in some small way I will inspire each of them to step inside their hearts and listen for the subtle guidance that will lead them to their dreams.
