I spent four days last week at a Twelve-Step Recovery Convention in Ocean City, MD. Being back at the beach reminded me of my end-of-summer reflections and shoutout to Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s book Gift from the Sea. Today’s post reflects on my gratitude for both the gifts from the seashore and from recovery.
During my August beach visit, I read the first couple chapters and skimmed the rest of Lindbergh’s book. This time I read it all and spent some time pondering its message. She writes about her two weeks on a small island off the coast of Florida. She begins each chapter with a vivid and detailed description of different sea shells – Channeled Whelk, Moon Shell, Double-Sunrise, Oyster Bed and Argonauta. Most of these I wasn’t familiar with.
For her, each shell offers a different life lesson. She writes from the perspective of a midlife woman balancing the challenges of being a mother, wife, writer, home manager, and civic leader. She is on retreat by herself for the first week and with her sister for the second.
She begins with reflections on simplicity. She observes how little she needs to be satisfied in her island hut by herself. She contrasts it with her daily life in 1955; it’s what she calls growing multiplicity – “ever widening circles of contact and communication.” She realizes each commitment is a choice she makes and the complexity is part of how she responds to her unique callings.
One shell leads her to ponder solitude and how hard it is to make time for herself. Her desire for a calm space to catch up with herself and spirit reminded me of my quest for quiet and solitude. For that, I choose the beach and many other places.
In the next several chapters, she explores her evolving understanding of love, love for herself, and for her marriage partner. She uses the image of the double-sunrise shell and how it evokes the bliss of falling in love. She acknowledges that this period inevitably ends. The changing oyster shell reflects committed love as it “looks and works outward”.
Romantic love is followed by a period where all the activity and inevitable conflicts are shaped by “a slow-growing devotion and a constantly rippling companionship. It is made up of loyalties, and interdependencies, and shared experiences.” Messiness and fragility describe this period. If successfully navigated, it builds on and expands the earlier romantic love.
Relations change, grow, and sometimes end as we face our aging; we can see the openness and possibilities of our later years. Lindbergh concludes her short book describing an “Argonauta” or “Paper Shell” – a shell which is a cradle for the young and new life. And as the young swim away, “the mother argonaut leaves her shell and starts another life.”
She concludes with the 1950s aspirations of a woman seeking to be respected as a whole person. She enters into what she calls “person to person” relationships where both are free to grow and change; ultimately, they deepen their love for one another. As she packs to leave, she acknowledges there are more shells to explore, more of life to experience in the freedom of later years.
Sitting on the balcony at my cousin’s home on the beach, I watched the ebb and flow of the ocean, the rise and fall of the winds, and how they shaped the waves. I was delighted to spot dolphins making their way north in the ocean, noticing their dives were shallower than usual.
I reflected on my four days at the Recovery Conference, amidst over 2000 other seekers of recovery. The Saturday night sobriety count-down revealed a wide range of sobriety from 7 days to 59 years. Each conversation and story had at its core a profound gratitude for the radical and unbelievable transformation that was happening in each person’s life. The pathways to recovery varied as did the pace of embracing the need for surrender, personal change, and helping others recover. Yet, the collective gratitude is palpable and can’t be missed. Change occurs for the individual and in their relationships: spouses, children, and parents.
The seashore is a perfect place to reflect on the many gifts of the sea and the many gifts of recovery. Love makes them possible and nourishes their growth.

Thanks Tom. I enjoyed this one a lot.
Thanks Mike, good to ehar from you. Best to you, Pat and family.
Hi Tom,
Thank you for another written reflection. I read Anne Morrow Lindsberg’s ‘Gifts from the Sea’ when I was a young woman. So much of the book seemed to be about her longing for a closer relationship with her husband, the world famous pilot, Charles Lindberg,
A few ago, we learned that Charles Lindberg had a minimum of 4-5 children in Germany, perhaps even more. Apparently Lindberg admired Adolf Hitler and believed he too was part of a ” Master race ” and should ensure that his genes were passed to to as many offspring as possible.
I was so disapointed in Lindberg, but more so for his wife Anne. There she was , then a mother of 4 remaining children, longing for, but forcing herself to accept separations from her husband. Meanwhile he was busy creating other children.
It appears the Charles Lindberg let his pride and ego determine his actions.
What a pity for Anne. She could written about joy and contentment in marriage, but due to her husband’s arrogance, she could not.
Thanks Sarah for widening the lens for appreciating Anne Linbergh’s book. You remind me that things are often not what thye appear. And despite that the Big Spirit or Higher Power uses all our life expereicnes to teach us to grow in love and compassion. Thanks for adding these insights to the story.