The Calm by the Ocean

Lately, I've been spending most of my free time by the ocean. I go right after work and I stay until the sun has set. I listen to music or read or walk along the shore, staring at the clouds slowly turn a warm pink and gold until finally they transform into a cool, deep bluish gray.  I do this alone. I think that this is my form of meditation. At night I tend to worry about tomorrow. But when I'm at the beach, the water captivates me. I have no room to think of anything else except for the waves crashing and the seagulls crying and the wind blowing its song into my ear. 

The best moment for me is always when the sky becomes alive. The pink and blue and orange clouds coat the world above me like pieces of cotton candy. The sun becomes this dark amber half circle submerging behind the black outlines of tall buildings closest to the beach. The water is a reflection of above, so that when it crashes along the shore and withdraws back into the sea, it leaves a glistening film of silver and color so vivid you feel as if you are walking on they sky. 

I love to stroll barefoot on this sky water. I walk towards the jetty and I climb the rocks and I hear the crash of waves and taste the salt of the sea on my tongue and there's no other moment but the moment I'm living right then. There's no fear. There's no worry. My mind is clear and formless. I take out my iPhone and try to capture the soul of the sea in images. I only get a glimpse of its secret heart, something dark and powerful and pulsing with the energy of countless years of being. I don't flinch when the gulls fly nearby. I don't panic as night pulls its shroud across the world and the beach becomes this silent shadowed place. I feel harmony here. 

When I know I must leave and I turn my back from the water, I feel its pull tugging the strings of my heart. I feel the depth of its existence cradle some worried section of my heart. It will be here tomorrow. This I can be certain of. The moon is at my back. My soul is shrouded in salt and the weightless brilliance of sunset clouds. I feel beauty all around me. And it is a gentle, happy feeling. 

A Walk After Work

(Sometimes after I'm done with work I like to walk through neighborhoods or parks and think and observe. It's like a form of meditation for me, a way for my mind to wander or be still)

I walked through my neighborhood last week after work, trying to gather my thoughts. The day was mild with the slight chill of the ocean breeze. Simultaneously, I felt the delicious warmth of the sun and then the cold wind brushing along my skin. The sky was an endless blue, with patches of gray clouds interrupting the continuity. There were no passerby; no skaters or surfers or people walking their dogs that day. There was just me. I relished the solitude. A long stretch of sidewalk greeted me and I walked along it, looking at the beach front houses and into the windows of some. Living rooms were decked out in nautical designs, shells and sand colored sofas; stripes and the sails decorated some walls. In the yard of one house, I spied a life float. In another I noticed a tiki bar, complete with torches and bamboo chairs. Everything felt colorful and pale at the same time when I looked through those windows. It was like looking at display houses, ones that have never been lived in. There were no signs of life, no pillow out of place, no tiny sock, signifying that a child lived there, nothing. There was just the decor, sterile and lifeless. I looked away. It was pretty, but that was all.

A sparrow landed in front of me and picked up a bundle of dried grass in its mouth before flying away. I tried to see where it went but it had flown away too fast. I looked at the spot where it had been, tiny shreds of grass were still on the ground. I stepped over it, as if it were a bad luck crack in the floor or a fragile object I didn't want to break and walked on. I turned the corner and heard a wind chime churning its music into the empty air. It gave a haunted feel to the block I walked on. There was energy in the wind chime's music and magic too. But the magic felt melancholy, as if no real miracles could be cast, just shoddy illusions. The music in the air sounded like a lament, an apology. 

Here, little trees lined the edge of the sidewalk. White blossoms covered the branches, some of the petals falling to the ground like snowflakes. In one of the trees a bright yellow bird flitted from branch to branch. I stopped and watched its quick movements. It stopped and regarded me before once again jumping from branch to branch. I wondered if it was someone's escaped canary but  I wasn't sure. Besides, it seemed happy in its den of flowers, that was a much better cage than one made of metal anyway.

My feet took me where it wanted to go and  I let them. My eyes wandered but didn't really focus on anything. Then I noticed the beach before me and walked across the street. I walked onto the boardwalk and then down into the sand, slipping off my shoes with jerky movements as I tried not to fall. The sand was warm from the sun and soft under my toes. I walked to the shore and put my shoes and bag down. I stared at water as it rushed to the shore, inches away from my toes before pulling back as if it had thought better of touching me. The crashing sound of waves tumbling to shore always relaxed me. I walked parallel to the water, picking up pretty shells and stones. I thought of happy memories that I've had of being by the water. The waves crawled to shore and reached my ankles, its cold embrace made me pull back, laughing. 

Sunset was sharpening itself along the sky, trailing pink and orange ribbons in the bright sheet of blue. I saw the building turn to silhouettes and marveled at how beautiful this time of day was. There were barely any people at the beach but that was no surprise, the weather was getting chillier and the wind was picking up. I walked over to one of the jetties lining the beach and sat on one of the rocks. I let my feet dig into the sand while the wind stirred up little grains that mingled in the wind. I felt the sand clinging to my arms and face and hair. It stuck to my lips as if I've been kissed by poseidon. I knew it was time to go. Walking back I could smell the salt of the water. I had taken a few shells and rocks and stuck them in my pocket. They clattered gently as I walked. I slipped back on my shoes, ignoring the fact that there would be sand in them and headed home. Suddenly I felt tired, as if I had walked miles instead of a few blocks. All I wanted to do at that moment was sleep, but I was happy for the walk and for the small things I noticed on the way. The sun was setting and the wind was getting colder, sharper. By the time I reached my house I could hear the wind howling. I set my stones down on the table, my sand filled shoes by the door and went to relax.

One Hundred Happy Days- Day Four

Walking on the Winter Beach

Yesterday I walked along Far Rockawy Beach before work. I was searching for peace and a quiet place to think. During this time of year there barely any people walking on the beach. Those that I happened to see here, were lost in thoughts of their own or hypnotized by the view. 

The ocean was a dark, turbulent wash of gray and green. Waves clung to the edges of the shore, blanketing in foaming blankets of white. The sky above was the color of steel. Everything was quiet. Silence settled upon me. It was the kind that made everything become still; the kind that eased the worries of the heart, lifting it then letting it sink to the bottom of the ocean's impenetrable depths. The kind that also allowed those worries to float away into the horizon. The silence resembled a kind of hope. We push our wishes into the unknown, praying that whatever comes brings us joy and blessings. We take those hopes and let them go, allowing them to sink or float. 

I watched the water and thought of my father. I remembered his silhouette by the shore at Coney Island as my little sister and I collected shells to paint. I asked his memory, "are there oceans where you are? Do you swim?" Looking at a piece of sea foam shatter in the air, I thought, "do you fly?" I let the silence cover me. I let my hopes float along the horizon and my tears fall until they became too cold to permit and I wiped them away. I watched the sea. A lone surfer braved the waves, his bright blue board a bright contrast to the mute day. 

I walked along the empty Boardwalk and felt lifted. Seagulls rose in the air above me, gliding and swooping with the currents of the wind. A flock of pigeons joined their flight, weaving past the seagulls.  Wings filled the sky.  My heart soared with them. I felt weightless. I felt lifted. I felt happy.