Meaning in Seashells

finding new connection by the shore, Part 1

Is my time for collecting seashells over?

This was a thought I had the other weekend when I watched one of my friends pick up, and clean off a seashell, then pocket it.

I felt a twinge of sadness for a time of my life being over. Then, of course I laughed at how dramatic the thought was. As I often feel the need to find or make meaning of something, I took a walk to contemplate.

I ruminated… Perhaps there was a season of collecting for me, and I’m not in it anymore. That doesn’t mean it won’t come again, and if for some reason it is over and done, maybe that’s OK. 

After all, to everything there is a season, right?

From 2016 to 2021, I collected a bunch of shells from a dozen different North Carolina, South Carolina and Georgia (well, Tybee Island) beaches.

Much of this time during these beach visits was contemplative. I was in a time of finding myself, discovering who I want to be and what I wanted in my life. I was grieving periodically , and then finding and reevaluating a new me again, and again. I had long talks with the ocean, out loud. And, she talked back!

I walked along shore lines with curiosity and discovery in mind… Naturally, I would look down.

Some beaches are filled with seashells, all over the place, especially where you don’t want them to be (ouch!) - at that place where the water touches the sand. Where you have to walk lightly across millions of seashells to get to the soft places in the sand in the water.

Sunset Beach, NC is practically void of them; different layers and colors of sand as far as the eye can see, and then an occasional little bump, little glimmer of white or black along the shore. At least in early May and late September, that’s what I’ve been mostly the last couple of years. So, I was surprised when my friend picked out a small white shell.

Pawleys Island, SC is home to a unique rounded bubbly scalloped shell that I’ve only seen at that beach; and there are tons of them!

I’ve collected beautiful and unique and mirrored shaped shells; misshapen, broken shells, long, pointy, round, scalloped and swirly, white and beige, brown and pink, blue and purple, and even gray and black; and all variations of color in between. 

There are a few rocks and Seaglass pieces in my collection of found treasures, all reminding me of places I’ve been, friends and loved ones I’ve been with, and new places within that I have found, and awakened.

I have two containers of seashells and glass and rock in my house. One is a giant decorative abalone shell with a beautiful iridescent center my friend Barbara gave me back in 2016, when my beach exploration began. I also have an old ceramic bowl from my mom‘s house, all filled with these shoreline treasures.  The bowl even holds a tiny tree that I found in North Topsail Beach in 2020. There, I also found shells with tiny little holes in them, which made them perfect for decorating the little tree.

I made this little totem on my first ever solo Beach trip, in August 2020, when I was in great need of solace and repair and rest and resetting in a very hard year.

I haven’t gotten down to the beaches often these last couple of years. I mean, that’s not exactly true. I reviewed the files; I went 5 times in 2022. But, 2 of those times, I was working (Connected Heart Voice Retreats) and one of those weekends I got stung by a sting-ray, and that was the end of that! Same with 2023 - 5 trips (2 working weekends and 2 foreign countries - not the same). 

I didn’t collect one shell last year, in the two times I made it to the Carolina shores. The last picture of a shell I have was in March 2022. I also didn’t feel as connected to the sea as I had been in previous years. 

What changed?

I made it a point to seek out a reconnection to the shore, and the water this last trip in May. What surprised me, the unexpected experience that makes me tear up as I think of it again, is how she was waiting for me. When I came last year I had not been able to have a conversation with her. There was something that was hiding or shut down in me.

With determination, I walked to the shore on my first day of a beautiful week on Sunset Beach, and said, “hi Ocean, I’m back.”

She said hi, I’ve missed you …

I had forgotten that I used to talk to her. I’m realizing that when I attempted last year and didn’t get very far, I was blocked. I was still seeking, but maybe not with an open heart. I told myself maybe this relationship was over; maybe it’s changed. 

A few months ago I read Rick Rubin The Creative Act. At the end of the “Nature as Teacher” chapter, he wrtites…

“There’s a reason we are drawn to gazing at the ocean. It is said the ocean provides a closer reflection of who we are than any mirror.”

After reading it, I was antsy to get back to the shore. So, here I was, reconnecting with her, with me, thinking of this quote and realizing I had been cut off from a part of myself for a little while. She (her divineness) had not forsaken me; I had.

Later that week when I got sad thinking my time for collecting shells was over, and basically spoke this article into my phone as I walked along the shoreline, I was overwhelmed with a sense of love and belonging. I was coming back to me.

I reflected on the collecting, the finding, the search. Of all the shells over all the shoreline, over all the years, why did I pick the ones I picked to take home? I wanted a variety of colors and shapes; I wanted the perfectly symmetrical AND the weird and the broken.

Today I see something my subconscious may have known all along …I was finding and accepting of all parts of me; the perfect and the weird. When I stopped collecting, I might have stopped looking and accepting within too. The practical part of me says that I have enough shells. I remember being purposeful in my last collections, limiting myself to 3 per trip. I spied a little off white cockle treasure in the almost barren shoreline and picked it up as I talked. Time to add to the pile!

My first love song was to the ocean, called Ocean Divine. On this day, I connected how when I commune with her, I can see the most divine parts of myself.

When you’re next by the shore, take a moment to listen to what that tender and powerful and fierce love has-to say. I hope you will connect and fall in love with yourself a little more. Perhaps you’ll take home a little reminder too.