InterActivity

Two weekends ago my family faced a three hour lineup at the Border so we quickly detoured into White Rock for lunch and a walk along the beach.
The wind was fierce and and as we walked out to the pier, the gusts increased. We were forced to brace ourselves to stay upright. The waves roared as the momentum of energy filled the ocean with whitecaps. The seagulls overhead were motionless - they were fixed in flight, static, taking on the wind. Even they felt nature's call to attention. The 90 km/hr winds were too much for my husband and daughter as they turned back to shore but my son and I persevered to the very end of the pier.

We could hardly catch our breath as the wind forced more and more air into our lungs. What vitality, what forces; the two of us alone with the elements. There was a precariousness that we balanced, edging nearer to exhilaration than peril.

The fierce arctic wind sprayed an icy chill over our bodies. The wind was whipping my son's hair back and his cheeks were emblazoned a bright pink from the cold. We ran and we played tag; we laughed while the wind chased the sounds of glee from our voices.  We struggled to keep our hair from our eyes and our faces. Our lips were frozen and ears aching from the bitter November cold. We zipped up our coats and snapped on our hoods. We were numb with cold and yet we were invigorated. We were carefree and so happy. The pier was abandoned, and the world was ours. The smile on his face and the sparkle in his eyes reflected my own overflowing joy. Within these moments there is a stillness, that is rich with energy,  flow,  relationality, and connections with self, my son and nature.
This is one more personal definition of active living.