Tuesday, August 17, 2010

An Ongoing Love Affair

(Written April, 2010)

To many, the ocean is stunning, captivating, and alluring. To someone who grew up in Ohio, it is all that times a thousand.

I was first introduced to the sea at the tender age of five and a half, on a family vacation to Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. (I know, Delawhere?? But it was one of my family’s favorite vacation destinations since long before I was born) I can still remember rushing into the surf with my trusty Styrofoam inner tube to keep me afloat, and not stopping until I had become “one” with the waves. I can also remember my mother’s frantic voice yelling (to the collective bunch of siblings swimming around me), “Watch her! Don’t let her go out too far!”

It was the beginning of a lifelong love affair for me.

In eighth grade, my mother pulled me out of school for two weeks (oh, I’ll bet my teachers loved her) in the dead of winter to whisk me away to Delray Beach, Florida - for a visit with my Italian grandmother. It was then that I learned the absolute bliss of an “ocean respite.” My teenage hormones were making me crazy, math homework was making me cry, and winter time was delivering its cruel, icy bitch-slap for the third month in a row…and it was definitely time to escape. It was time to let the soothing lullaby of the surf calm my every nerve…the healing salt-filled waters cleanse all the toxins from my muscles…and to let the sun replenish my serotonin that would then tell my body, “Things aren’t so bad…in fact, you feel happeeeee…”

Then, when I thought it couldn’t get any better….I went to San Diego (to visit a brother) and met The Pacific. Oh my God. All the usual beauty of the ocean, plus a perpetually sunny and dry climate. It was the summer of 1982, and I spent an entire month with the Pacific. I was sad to have to leave it, but it told me, “Don’t worry. When you’re old enough, we’re going to live together one day.” It kept its promise.

In the next two decades, I had a series of summer flings with the ocean. There was Myrtle Beach the summer after I graduated from high school. The North Sea, the Irish Sea, and the English Riviera - when I did a tour of the UK in 1987. In the 90s I made a trip to coastal North Carolina at Holden Beach, and experienced the rugged and wild coast of Maine on a brief trip to New England. In 2000, I visited the ancient city of Venice—a place surrounded by the sea, and its waters running through as street canals.

In 2001, I was a hardworking school teacher who desperately needed some rest and relaxation far, far away. I’d just read Gift From the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh, and was inspired to make an ocean getaway for my spring break. A dear friend told me about a private place on the Gulf coast of Alabama, and it was one of the most deliciously blissful and healing experiences I’d ever had on a solo journey. The Gulf has its own charms – powdery-white beaches so clean the sand actually squeaks beneath your feet when you walk across it. Dunes and sea oats, giving the beach a soft and exotic feel…and loads of varied shells strewn across the sand for one’s exploratory delight. I returned rejuvenated and ready to finish out the school year.

In 2004 I visited California once again, this time taking Highway 1 up the winding, dramatic coast through Big Sur. The “beauty overload” was so great, that I decided it was high time I lived by the sea.

For two and a half blessed years, I lived in the coastal town of Santa Barbara. It was life-changing. The ocean has an energetic power about it that—when in its presence long enough—can restore balance, self-empowerment, serenity, and hope to one’s life. I returned to Ohio a much different (and better) person than when I’d left. The withdrawal from the ocean felt as grueling and physically painful as a breakup, or even as if I’d lost a part of my body, but what I learned is that I can always draw from its power, no matter where in the world I am.

And now, here I am again at the Gulf Coast of Alabama – at that same private resort. This time around, I was in dire need of a respite from a series of trying events leading back to the death of my brother in October. I am in a transitory phase of life, trying to find new employment in an old career field (since my current one is beginning to take a dangerous toll on my body). So much to think about, so much to do. I am faithful that it will all come together exactly as it’s supposed to, at just the right time. So as I walk this beach once again and feel the healing power of the ocean wash across me in the driving sea winds, I ponder what will come next. I welcome it with open arms. I trust that it’s all in Divine right order. I’m a little excited imagining how it can only get better and better. But more than anything, my heart just overflows with gratitude getting to be here in this little paradise – existing only in the present moment.