We went to the beach yesterday. We are fortunate enough to live near to the beach and it was the perfect beach day. It was the kind of day where there was enough cloud cover to keep the sun from pelting down on you and enough wind to keep you cool but not enough to stir up any storms.
We didn’t always live near to the beach. We moved here seven years ago and when we first moved here, we truly understood how lucky we were to live near to the beach and we took advantage of it every chance that we got. Then after a couple of years in, living near to the beach lost its novelty and it became familiar. It was something that was always there for us in the background, like an aged dog or like that shiny, new basketball headboard or swimming pool or fancy jungle gym in the backyard that loses its luster as the kids get older. Of course, on occasion I would panic that we had lost our appreciation for living near to the beach and I would spout out guilt-wrenching edicts at the dinner table. “We used to spend thousands of dollars to go to beaches like the ones we have practically in our own backyard! We are going to the beach tomorrow and we are going to like it and we are going to appreciate it!” There is nothing like “forced fun” to bring a family closer. Ha!
I am particularly sensitive about taking things for granted right now, with my son freshly out of the nest. So when my husband suggested a long stroll on the beach, I jumped on it. We went to our local beach which is actually a beautiful island. It is a state park so there are no condos, surf shops or blow-up water slides. We took a 2.5 mile hike out to the secluded top tip of the island and we rounded the corner to the little cove where people anchor their boats and everyone just floats.
There is a big movement right now about staying in the “now”, in the present moment. When I can do it, when I can stay in the “now”, it makes so much sense. The now is peaceful, it is a gift, it is the only thing that we truly have, but of course, staying in the now takes practice and concentration and more often than not I am haranguing myself for past mistakes or worrying about future ones. So when we first arrived at the beach and started our walk, I was beating myself up for not coming to the beach more often, especially with summer more than half over. But then something magical started happening and I think the beach is a particularly good setting for magic. Walking on the warm, giving sand, listening to the gulls and the tide coming in and out, watching a kite in the distance stay happily floating in the air, like the people in the water, floating easily on the top of the buoyant salt water, I fell into a meditation taught to me many years ago. It’s a simple meditation. Breathe in deeply. Just. Breathe out all worries and concerns and grief. This. Breathe in. Just. Breathe out. This. Just. This. Just this.
I try to put so much thought and meaning and purpose into everything that I think I often miss the whole point. It is becoming more and more obvious, the older that I get that the point is probably just to experience it all, experience all the magic, beauty and perfection, even when it doesn’t feel like perfection. Just this. It’s a beautiful, simple meditation and it may be all that we need.