The Return Stories: Sandcastle Relationships

Dears,

I’m excited to introduce The Return Stories series to the blog! The Return Stories will be a series where I share about some of the moments, reflections, and experiences that shaped my first book, Soul Poetry Volume I: The Return. Each story offers a glimpse into the lessons behind the pieces I’m expanding on, addressing the things I had to remember, unlearn, or return to. As The Return is layered and coded with meaning behind meanings, I believe these stories will provide deeper context to some of its pieces.

For the first post of this series, I want to start with some reflections on impermanence, expectations, and the relationships that come and go like sandcastles on the shore.

The thing about sandcastles is that, while they are fun to build and beautiful to look at, they are by nature unstable. Some relationships are the same: exciting, beautiful, but easily washed away when reality sets in.

Have you ever met someone, had a beautiful romance that lasted only a few hours or days, and then everything crashes? I’ve been there. Or those friendships that are fun until something ‘real’ happens – a tension, a confrontation, a disagreement – and there is no space to hold space for each other? I’ve experienced those, too.

We all know these types of dynamics that cannot sustain the depths that human relationships require. Having such dynamics in our lives is fine, but it’s important to know where you are standing with the people in your life.

The structure of our relationships defines the contents that the relationships can carry.

I’ve learned that, whichever form our relationships may take, the structure of our relationships defines the content that the relationships can carry. These relationships that can be washed away with a wave of life, I call them sandcastle relationships. For, as creative and playful as building sandcastles can be, we all know that we can’t live in them; their structures can be washed away easily with some water, making what was built collapse in no time.

Similarly, if our relationships don’t have solid foundations, as playful and fun as the dynamics may be, they are not mindfully created. And much like when a child builds a sandcastle, unaware of what’s needed for the structure to be sustainable and last longer, as they’re doing it just for the fun of it without considerations for its sustainability, these dynamics that are built around “just for the fun of it” may not withstand moments that are less fun and that may ask to weather the storm that’s happening or the big blow that’s to come – metaphorically speaking. These could be anything: a conflict, difference of opinions or values, personal issues, or relational challenges are a few examples.

Regardless of how it shows up, the questions for me remain the same: do we have a foundation to lean onto that can carry this weight? And if not, is this relationship worth creating more solidity?

Meeting people, romantic interests and friends alike, have shown me over the years that intentionality is one key component when it comes to relationships. I’ve met people who haven’t had the capacity to create more than sandcastles with me, and that’s fine. But how wonderful would it be to know this from early on? How wonderful would it be to know the type of dynamic you have with a person from the get-go?

Soul Poetry Inspiration

This idea of structurally impermanent relationships inspired a piece I wrote in my book, which explores why some connections, though beautiful, aren’t meant to last. Let’s break it down.

The sacred concrete of the divine = Love. While I’m aware that the word ‘Love’ is rather vague, here I’m refferring to God’s love, hence the words sacred and divine. We can experience that type of love in humans, too. I experience it as a type of love without conditions; a love that can hold space for fuck-ups, for vulnerability, for conflict, as it knows its way back to itself. Without that security found in the sacred concrete of the divine, relationships remain fragile, no matter how beautiful they seem.

Having Love as a basis for my relationships means that anything that lacks this basis, must be washed away. This is because those relationships are, in essence, much like sandcastles: without a solid structure to sustain their beauty.

I was very intentional with the word ‘sandcastles’ as well, for they require some effort to build, they can be stunning, and they often feel real in the moment. But ultimately, they are temporary; a creative collaboration that disappears when the tide shifts.

And this is why in my reality, humans sandcastles must be washed away so that the sacred concrete of the divine can build lasting structures.

I’m curious to know: have experienced people and relationships that felt like sandcastles? One that was beautiful for a time but couldn’t withstand the waves? What did it teach you? Also, what anchors the sustainability of your relationships?

With love,
Jun 💜