Before Anyone Arrives
Every morning at the beach, I wake before the alarm.
This is not discipline. It is something closer to anticipation. By the time I pull on a shirt and make my way down to the beach, the sky is moving from black to the particular blue that exists only in the window before sunrise. The vendors are not set up yet. The jet skis are still on the sand. The families have not yet claimed their territory with the precision of military strategists.
The beach belongs to no one and therefore to everyone willing to arrive first.
I set my bucket down. I look at what I have to work with. And I begin.
I have been building sandcastles for several years now. It started the way most things worth doing start, as something small and slightly ridiculous, a retired executive kneeling in the sand while everyone else ordered their first drink of the day. The early castles were generous in spirit and catastrophic in execution. They required explanation. You would look at them and think, this is either a sandcastle or a man had a difficult morning. Both were true.
Then the castles got better.
Then I started noticing that the castles were not the only thing getting better.
This blog is where I will share what the mornings continue to teach me. About building things. About showing up before the conditions are perfect. About the people who stop and watch and sometimes kneel beside you. About what the tide takes and what it cannot touch.
Every Grain Is Real: What the Sand Teaches is available now. Every author royalty goes to Family Promise, which helps families experiencing homelessness. You can order a copy, including a signed one, from the links above.
The sand is waiting. Come early.