That autumnal morning the sun was low and half asleep in the sky, and I felt like I was in a hipstamatic photograph. Loners sat on the wall cradling their coffees and gazing out at the ocean, bright young things jogged by in tight pants with midriffs on display, and bronzed surfers padded past with boards tucked under their arms. Dog walkers and baby walkers paraded by with leads and three wheeler strollers, and a bearded traveller opened his eyes and the doors of his van to let in the morning sunlight. Despite this movement of life I was frozen in time, hypnotised by a landscape alive with colour.
Living beside the sea is cleansing, it opens my soul and clears my head. The pounding, repetitive beat of the waves can either inspire and energise, or send me into a reflective, meditative state. Whether it's a bad hangover, sleep deprivation, morning sickness, loving someone, losing someone, celebrating or grieving life, what's certain is that the deep blue is a healer.
My partner is a surfer and from the moment he puts his feet into the water I see how he becomes part of the ocean. He pushes off and paddles out one stroke at a time, ducking under the waves as they roll over him then breathing heavily he lies, belly on board, waiting for a set to roll in.
Waiting, just waiting.
Alone but not lonely.
Focused, mesmerised and aware.
He waits for the moment he will stand up and ride with the rhythm of the waves.
For him surfing is meditation, it is medicine.
After my mother died we crept into an ocean pool at twilight and gathered on the rocks overlooking the ocean. As waves lapped over our feet we scattered mum's ashes into the sea. What a perfect place to lay to rest.
The churning and constant movement of the sea is an allegory for life; transient, turbulent yet beautiful.
I Love By the Sea.
