The lagoon is a remarkable space for meditation. Every so often, I go to the lagoon to be reminded of the great and expandable universe - a thought that surfaces only on rare occasions, and which, more often now, seems obscured in the activities of my every day. On these occasions, I will admire the lagoon for its static and unchangeable beauty.
Usually, I will sit by the waterfront with my legs stretched out over the bank, where I feel as though the waves could at any moment engulf me, or sweep me into their current. It’s at times like these when I feel most connected to, and reminded of places that exist beyond my small and tangible universe. Sometimes, on days when the fog will toughen the distinctions between water and sky, I feel a sudden awareness of my very small and gullible existence. I am not sure why this particular image, of the lagoon caught in the fog, will have this powerful effect on me – but to know that bigger things exist beyond my daily, and secluded bubble of insecurities – is a thought that I feel immensely comforted by.
Staring in silence at the sea is something that I have done since the age of a young child. Even before discovering what the word ‘meditation’ actually meant, or the idea of it, I felt naturally moved by the waves, which would always have a soothing effect on my innermost thoughts. I think that this natural attraction has in part, inspired my ability to meditate so easily by the sea or the Venice lagoon, where I can focus only on the passing of my thoughts, and allow them to just come and go.
Maria Sherbov, Young Voices volunteer collaborator, age 23