“Waves crash all around
me, in an instant, my troubles gone.
Serenity overwhelms me;
a massive wave of warm and clear ocean,
Roaring, soothing,
calling…”
-Louis Santana
There are times when you or I fall into the trap of
hurriedness. Don’t be fooled, it is a trap.
We hurry and scurry all about, and yet only clear a day’s worth of
clutter from our plates. In the morning when we wake, we are sure to see it
once more, begging to be attended to.
That was my life before I went on a weekend’s vacation to the Pacific Ocean . It
was only a weekend mind you, and I must admit that I was reluctant to visit the
ocean, in light of all the other wonderful and exciting things to be seen and
done in Sunny San Diego. I am a doer, and the thought of actually taking time
to visit a mere pile of sand and water fought with the inner hurried man in me
that advertised its charm wholly in the fact that it was the absence of doing
that was its greatest asset. Still I hesitantly
settled in on making the short outing to see what the big fuss was about in
seeing a giant playground of sand and sea.
As I arrived, I caught a faint whiff of the wonderfully
sweet-smelling ocean breeze. The wind was fresh enough to feel cool against my
face. As I made my way down the beach, I
paused to slip off my shoes, and as I carried them I saw families playing
against the backdrop of the horizon, the oceans roar growing ever so
louder. It was as if I was stepping back
into time, and with each step on the wonderfully smooth silica sand, the engine
inside me that ran at such a furious pace in the city began to slow down. I drew closer and fully took in the wondrous
site before me. In the distance was a
cliff from which off it I could see divers leaping into the frothy basin below.
To my right ran a wooden pier and on it,
I saw a man and a woman in full formal attire betrothing their lives to each
other in matrimony. All around me were
people fully engaged in the archaic art of relaxing. Young, old, big and small; two
older men passed in front of me and waved hello, the sun reflecting off their
silver hair and tan skin. A group of
young girls played in the surf, splashing about, laughing without a single
momentary care in the world. Others jogged near the line of the incoming tide;
some in their bare feet others in sneakers.
My own little one chased the current, scouring the damp sand for
seashells. It was then that I was awoke by the highlighting of everything
around me in a warm orange glow; the sea, the sand, and the cottages in the
distance. The sun swollen and fat,
prepared to make its final descent into the boundless waves beyond the line
where ocean met sky.
The waves called to me. They whispered, calming my
soul. The tide reassuringly surrounded
me over and over, the water cool and fresh.
The waves roared their excitement as they fell upon each other, and as I
looked upon them I felt hope, and confidence; joy, and peace. I was entranced and had a sudden urge to be completely engulfed in the cool water as I watched the waves roll in and out. I stood there, letting the sun’s fading light
warm me as I watched it radiate and reflect its mirror image in the surf before me.
Much too soon I begrudgingly knew that it was time to
go. My spirit completely rested, a
foreign sensation I rarely get to have. I
also finally understood the myriads of amateur photos of people standing by the
sea and the significance that moment captured in time must have meant for them
too, something no one can ever explain to another fully. Thankful for my own moment,
I know that I will soon find myself intentionally visiting the Great Sea
-Lou
