Tag: beach

Christmas In July At The Beach

Christmas In July At The Beach

“Sunblock?”

“Cooler?”

“Towels?”

“Christmas tree?”

I’m not sure how long it takes for a tradition to become a tradition, but for the past few years we’ve celebrated Christmas in July. At the beach. I’m not sure why we started doing this in the first place. I’d seen photos of decorated Christmas trees on beaches primarily in the southern hemisphere where Christmas falls during their summer. It looked like a fun thing to do here. 

One year after Christmas we got a great deal on a six-foot artificial tree and some cheap plastic ornaments and put them aside for a day in July. I even found a Santa bathing suit. 

The tradition was born.

Setting up our tree for the first time was met with a weird curiosity by those beaching next to us. Their glances had a “what the hell are these people doing?” vibe to them. Once the tree was up Continue reading “Christmas In July At The Beach” →

I Found Your Broken Heart On The Beach

I Found Your Broken Heart On The Beach

You’d think with all the miles I’ve walked on beaches over the years this would have happened sooner.

But there it was, at my feet.

A heart-shaped stone.

I’ve jealously seen a great many heart-shaped stones posted on social media, many from beaches I’ve actually walked on. Yet never had I seen one in real life. But there it was.

And it was broken.

The symmetrical shape of the symbol we equate with love wasn’t quite perfectly symmetrical. A small section on the upper left side had broken off, the roughness of the break contrasted against the weathered rounded and smoothed surface of the rest of the stone.

I found a broken heart on the beach.

This broken heart got me to thinking about the symbolism it may contain. Was there some significance in such a find? Was there a particular message or lesson behind me being in the right place at the right time to discover a fractured heart right in front of me?

A broken stone heart is easily seen. A human broken heart is much more difficult to see, the fractures and pain concealed within, with facades of smiles and laughter concealing the hurt even further.

Most of us with some years behind us carry within our own asymmetrical heart, a heart fractured and broken by the impact of simply being human, of simply being alive. Maybe finding this broken heart was to remind me that while broken hearts, specifically the human ones, can never be perfectly fixed, they can be cared for with love, kindness, patience, and understanding.

Hurt is universal.

So, too, is our capacity to respond with compassion.

Towards your heart.

And mine.

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

The Power of Surrender and Release

The Power of Surrender and Release

A beach day in January.

It’s my annual tradition.

East Beach in Westport. Around the the start of a new year I make my way here. Only at low tide will this beach reveal the limited amount of sand which exists on this narrow stretch of shore. This beach is mostly rocks and stones, each uniquely shaped and weathered by the power of the crashing waves they are constantly subjected to.

I come here to release. To release the things I choose not to carry with me into a new year. Emotional things. Like anger, doubt, fear, resentment, hurt, regret, frustration, bitterness…

Self awareness is a wonderful gift. Over the years I’ve gotten quite good at knowing me and accepting me. Compassionately. There is no good, bad, nor ugly. There just is. I’ve learned to just be aware of what I’m feeling and not judging myself for feeling what I feel. I know what I am carrying within me, and when I decide I don’t want to carry that emotional heaviness any longer I come here.

To throw it away.

Literally.

My “methodology” is rather crude and simple. A stone and a Sharpie. As I walk on the rocky shore I simply pick up a stone, Continue reading “The Power of Surrender and Release” →

The Best Time To Experience The Present Moment Is Now

The Best Time To Experience The Present Moment Is Now

So there I was.

5:30 AM standing on Coast Guard Beach.

Eastham, Cape Cod. 

Here comes the sun, as the song says.

I’m drawn to sunrises, even if at times it’s a long drive to see one. I left my home a few minutes before 4:00 on this Sunday morning just to see the sun appear out of the depths of the Atlantic Ocean. Certainly, sunrises can be a metaphor for new beginnings and new light. I just happen to think they are simply really cool to witness.

This one didn’t disappoint. The sky’s subtle transition from dark to light revealed a spectacular array of colors and textures in the sky and along the shore. In the shallow water in front of me several seal pups swam parallel to the shore, unimpressed with the sights and sounds around them, the crashing of the ocean waves illuminated by the ever-changing angle of the sun.

With me, as always, was my camera, my trusted companion in capturing the fire and majesty of the births of many new days. But today the camera wasn’t the priority.

I’ve watched the sunrise on this and other beaches many times over the years. Each one it’s own unrepeatable magnificent creation. And with each one came my intention to perfectly capture it, camera in hand. At some point in my photographic journey, though, I realized that I had unintentionally become more concerned with preserving the moment than actually experiencing it. My egoic desire to own the moment prevented me from actually fully enjoying the moment.

Egoic, because I had made this about about me and my need to perfectly capture what was in front of me. Egoic, knowing I’d be disappointed if the images I captured didn’t meet my exacting standard.

It made me wonder about other moments in my life where I chose, consciously or unconsciously, to surrender the present moment in favor of attempting to relive it at a later time. How much of the present moment is lost when we need to immediately share that moment on Facebook and Instagram? What if instead of photographing our food we chose to first actually enjoy it instead?

The best time to experience the present moment is now. 

I still greatly enjoy the photographic side of a sunrise, ever working at refining my skills with the goal of faithfully capturing the beauty of what’s in front of me. But the priority is to now be more fully present to witness the spectacle and wonder of what’s unfolding in front of me. 

On the beach.

And in life.

Throwing Stones At God

Surrender has nothing to do with a white flag.

There is a place I get to every now and again. It’s not a place you just happen to go by, it’s much more of a destination. An on-purpose kind of a trip. This place has become a rather spiritual place for me, a church without walls, a place where I ask life’s deeper questions and hope to hear the answers contained within the voices of the crashing waves in front of me.

This beach is anything but pretty. Not very popular, actually. It will never be confused with the elegant beaches found nearby on Cape Cod, nor will it be placed in the same class as Horseneck Beach which sits just on the other side of Gooseberry Island. It feels Continue reading “Throwing Stones At God” →