Portals don’t open often. But when they do — step through.

This morning the beach reminded me, again, that the world has its own quiet timing.

I went for my usual Saturday ritual, drive to the beach, walk the shoreline, watch the fishermen, watch the sunrise.

And then I saw it while close to the end of the shore

The Portal as open

Two massive rocks that prematurely ends the shoreline making it almost impossible to cross. Most days the tide is too high, the waves too wild, the space too narrow. Blink and you miss the moment when it opens. Sometimes it doesn’t open at all.

But this morning, it did.

Walking through the Portal always feels mythical to me. On the other side is a hidden enclave of beach, a small world of its own. So many crabs on the rocks scrurrying around Caves carved by time and tide.

As I stepped through, I thought about how life works in the same way.

There are portals — moments, opportunities, invitations — that open briefly. Sometimes quietly. Sometimes without announcement. And if we aren’t paying attention, if we’re too distracted or too afraid, we miss them. We stay on the familiar side of the rocks, convincing ourselves that the passage is too risky, too narrow, too unpredictable.

But every now and then, life shifts. The tide lowers. The way clears. And something in us whispers, Go now.

This morning reminded me that courage isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s simply the willingness to notice. To be curious. To walk toward the thing that feels slightly impossible. To trust that what’s on the other side might be exactly what your spirit has been asking for.

Portals don’t open often. But when they do — step through.

Peace and Blessings