To The Ocean I Go

Just this week I caught up with a friend I hadn’t seen for a while. Prior to meeting up, we were discussing what we’d do. We’re both ‘water people’ and therefore gravitated to the sea. The evening sun was glorious, and the surface of the water was mostly quite calm. There was no swell, so we went for a SUP (for the uninitiated, that’s a stand-up paddle board).

We both have jobs, families, mortgages and responsibilities that require our attention. However, it was a wonderful opportunity to wash the stresses of the working week off, all the unfinished to-do lists (I’m not really a list person, so ‘unwritten to-do list’ might be more appropriate for me) left on the shore. Off we paddled for a short post-work adventure.

We reside in Dunbar, East Lothian, so the paddle took us beneath the incredible cliffs, and around the tidal pools and waterways; there was a plethora of seabirds who glided with a style and finesse we could never match; and there were seals who curiously popped their heads above the surface to catch a glimpse of the outsiders currently meandering through their patch. And aside from the beauty and nature that we were immersed in, there was some great chat about jobs, life and hopes, and some funny stories of our experiences and adventures elsewhere.

As we paddled one corner, we noticed some lovely rock formations (can’t escape an interest in climbing, even when you’re out at sea), and thought they’d be nice to jump off. Neither of us would be ones to bow out of a little adrenaline rush, and so we secured the boards to some swaying seaweed (clever hey?) and spent some time leaping off the ledges into the sea, whooping and cheering each other on. We slowly returned to the beach with the sun in our faces, fractals of light dancing on the surface of the ocean, hearts alive and at peace with the world.

And herein lies something of importance that is all too often lost in the busyness of our existence. There is much despair in the world around, much to worry about, become anxious about. A quick peruse of the local and global news is enough to leave us with feelings of hopelessness.

We mustn’t forget to play! Our world is terribly serious, and we’re particularly serious about our work, and rightly so. But there is a time for everything under the sun. Play and intentionally chasing after joy isn’t something for the young to do before they lay all that nonsense aside and start ‘adulting’. What if we ushered a little play into our lives, what might that look like?

Perhaps my mate and I took the words of Dunbar’s most famous son, John Muir, to heart:

‘Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, place to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and cheer and give strength to body and soul alike.’

We talk a lot about nature; how to care and nurture it; how to live ethically with, in and alongside it; how to feel connection to it and to God… and hopefully some of us put those thoughts, musings and discussions into practice. But who understands the human need to play? Do we ever prioritise that? Perhaps this could become one of our spiritual practices? Alongside bible reading, prayer, fasting, meditation, service for others, we could add play to that list. Not one of the classical spiritual disciplines or practices I must admit, but maybe one that, in this current age and time, should not be neglected, maybe one that is needed more than ever. Play, particularly in nature or with creative pursuits, could be the antidote to the anxiety-ridden, nerve-shaken culture that seems to be prevalent all around us.

So, here’s your homework for this week, go and play! What brings your heart alive, puts a child-like smile on your face? When was the last time you pursued a joy-filled, playful time just for the sake of it? What have you been neglecting in favour of to-do lists, should-do’s and ought-to’s?

Get out there. Connect with the playfulness of God and how He made you to be playful too. Restore something that’s been lost or buried deep within you. I guarantee you’ll rediscover that child-like heart that’s still there, discover something new about yourself. You may even see the world a little brighter than it seems right now… and then let wonder, adoration and thankfulness fill your heart.

Jon Timms

Co-Director, Rural Ministries