Sunday, March 13, 2011

So when I go visit my little sister in Houston, I always try to make time to run down to Galveston.

"Ewwwww. Why?" she always says.

She lived there during PA school and has had a less than favorable opinion of it since. Apparently, Galveston = the hood. And whilst it isn't in my Top 10 Beach Vacation Spots, it does consist of sand and an ocean, and it's 5 hours from my driveway.

She always turns her nose up and asks me why.

I need to look at the water. This is always my reply. Water has always had a calming effect on me. It's always brought me clarity. And tonight, I figured out why.

I stand on the shoreline and I look. I listen to the roar. And I think. The ocean was there millions of years before me. It will be there millions of years after I'm gone. It is not concerned with my life or even my existence. And it keeps on going.

The ocean is the antithesis of meaning. And that is peace in my world. For those few minutes when I can't see the horizon and I can listen to the immense crash of the ancient waves, THAT is calm.

The ocean knows nothing of me or my family or of drama or of budget cuts or of babies or bank accounts. It just IS and continues to be in spite of it all.

And that's why I'll take the beach I can get. Even if it's in Galveston.