The Strength and Vulnerability of Sand Castles
I went to the beach today; it was the first time in over 3 years that my toes sank into the sand. I admit it, I much prefer to walk in the Australian desert than the beach - I grew up far from the beach, the desert is known in my past. I walked the beach with a friend who was more than happy to take endless photos of the world around him, totally unaware that there was conflict inside of me.
I looked at the sand and I thought long and hard about the grains and how close they were in texture to the grains of sand I spent building sand castles with all that time back.
I felt the crunch and the slip of the sand under my feet and a part of me knew the connection was right for the time and for the part of me that is always looking for the past and the present to combine to build the future.
You might be wondering what a simple beach walk has to do with the wondrous world of workers compensation?
In truth it has nothing to do with workers compensation at all but everything to do with context and understanding and belonging and of what can be when hope and courage are combined.
In truth it has nothing to do with workers compensation at all but everything to do with context and understanding and belonging and of what can be when hope and courage are combined.
The sand in the desert and the sand on the beach are one and the same, different places but connected in identity.
This last week I sat with a member of the group I call the A Team- this group have done the training at Craig’s Table and are now moving forward into the next stage of their journey.
We discussed all the ways forward, the extra training that will be needed and the range of employment options that will open up. We discussed the need for some minor surgeries; we discussed the commonality and the changes that the future will hold and will bring. We discussed the need to let go of the past and the ease of stepping into the future supported with the framework of everyone at Craig’s Table who believes in her courage, her strength, her vulnerability and her tenacity to grow.
Through the conversation we had we kept going back to the start of her journey, we talked about the time when she sat in her car in tears of fear and pain and grief of all she had fought to hold on to but the workplace injury took from her. We talked about the first time her and I argued about everything I saw in her and everything she was too lost to believe was possible. We argued about the need to dig deep, deeper into her inner self and find the passion that had always been there but had now grown and reshaped itself. She yelled back at me how tired she was of always getting close and then having it all broken in front of her. She pushed back telling me that I had no idea what it was like to be her, to be different to have dreams so impossible that at times the dreams overwhelmed and crushed her: we talked about the dreams we talked about the dreams so shattered that they didn’t even had debris anymore, and we talked about the dreams that were shaping into the world that was building out of the ashes.
As I walked the beach today, I felt the strength of the single grains of sand when each of the was supported by the trillions of other grains of sand. It really didn’t matter that today’s sand was beach sand, what mattered was each grain of sand was being the best it could be as it lay in the sunshine, and each grain would continue to be wonderful even when the tide came in and the sand was submerged under the water for as long as required till the tide turned and the sand was once more open to the sun and the feet that would once more take walks along the beach.
I sat for a while and remembered walks that I had taken many years back, I thought of all that I had had to learn then let go of and all I had to traverse and place blind trust in just to be able to stand in the strength of the countless members of the injured worker community who firstly thought that they had no voice of their own, then pushed me forward to be their voice then pushed me aside or asked me to step aside.
Today as I walked on the beach I could see the vastness of the sand as it went around the headland, and I smiled, I knew in my heart that so much of the conversation that I had last week had actually started and was carried over the many grains of sand that had been an important part of my own life and my own journey.
My life started and was shaped by the vastness and honesty of the Australian desert, the sand hills and the sand storms. Each and every opportunity has to be picked up and carried and met head on.
The sand the conversations the opportunities that arguments the dreams shattered the dreams lost then reformed and re-found.
Life has such a way of taking twists that are unexpected and able to crush and able to lift above all of the shattered fragments.
My friend stopped walking and turned to go back to the car. As he approached where I was sitting, he smiled and said he was glad we had gone out of our way to find a way to walk on the beach. Just as he spoke all I could hear was the end of the conversation I had had that actually started the argument when I said “if the only answer you have is no then you are asking the wrong question!”
Today as the sand reshaped and reformed under my feet, I knew that all the injured worker community really needed was the strength and honesty of the right question to open the doors of endless morrows.
Yours in service
Rosemary
Rosemary
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