We return from visiting grandparents at the seashore. We’ve been told that this particular shore holds the most extraordinary collection of seashells. People come from all over the world to comb this beach for shells. Shelling at Sanibel Island is something we’ve looked forward to; however, this particular season, we’re so disappointed.

Something’s not right. The shells simply aren’t there.

We discover from a local resident the reason for this season’s emptiness:  
If you want extraordinary shells, you need a turbulent, stormy season. It hasn’t been violent enough to churn up the shells and deliver them to the shore. Shells like the ones on Sanibel Island require some deep disturbances. It’s just been too calm below the surface. 
I love the symbolism of it all and how, if you want a life to showcase the most beauty, it needs the most turbulent inner storms–those deep disturbances that churn up the rare and hidden treasures in our depths. 
The beautiful treasures hide inside, and it takes a storm to reveal them. So I ponder those moments in life that feel storm-tossed and unsettled. This kind of shaking gets to something authentic.

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