***
I'm not entirely certain as to why this is so, but I think it has something to do with the rhythms of the ocean and its ever-varying nature; it is the place I find myself constantly returning to, regardless of the weather. When I'm down or depressed, I take a trip out to the waterfront to calm down and find strength and support (when I don't feel like talking it out with my mama); when I'm calm and serene the ocean is a natural place that I turn to in order to discover new things or just be at peace. I think it's the natural, tumultuous nature of the place that appeals to me.
In winds and storms the waves swell and crash, beating against the shore relentlessly. This beating when you're upset can be sobering and soothing; it's as if nature is sympathizing with you and is beating back your problems, making them seem less dire. The wild nature of the waves ans stir emotions and calm them back down. If that doesn't work, you can picture yourself as the rocks along the coast.
The ocean is like the world surrounding you, and you are the shore. Ever so slowly the world beats you down, but it never succeeds in totally obliterating you. You hold strong and persevere, pushing through adversity and differences, each time emerging as something new. The world may beat away at you, but more than that it reshapes you just as the ocean reshapes the rocks along the shore.
On the flip side, the ocean is a place of peace and discovery when you are calm or light-hearted. There's always something changing or something new occurring. Whether is be the waves lapping against the shore or the critters hiding on the beach, there is always something new; something changes, something moves, and the entire picture is changed.
These two outlooks are only from the shores of the beach though; imagine what it's like out on the water itself. Not on some magnificent cruise liner where you can barely tell you're on the water, but on a calm day in the average vessel. Imagine getting far enough out to sea that all you can see is water. Water and sky are the only things surrounding you and you stop, turning off the motor and the stereo.
As the boat drifts in the tide you notice more than you ever thought possible in what some people have described as a "bland view". The rhythm of the water as it sloshes around your boat lulls you into serenity, and as you gaze at the water you notice not only the life forms below the surface, going about their daily routines, but the liveliness of the water itself. The fluidity captures your interest and soon you are lost in the colours, watching to see the water shift from one hue of blue to the next and noticing the amount of green in the water. You notice how the light reflects off the water, giving it more of a shining appearance, and curious you set your hand or feet into the water.
The cold temperature at first shocks you and you are tempted to pull out, but you don't. You persevere, noticing the ripples around your appendage and how they slowly meld with the waves until it looks like both the ripples and your appendage were always there. Slowly you realize that the water doesn't feel as cold anymore, and that it is instead rather soothing. You begin to drift off into thought now, slowly trailing your appendage in the water, and when you return to the marina at the end of the day you feel peaceful and calm. You feel as if you have left all of your problems out on the ocean and have carried the serenity and strength of the ocean home with you in their place.
***
This, I think, is why I'm having a hard time imagining living without the ocean; it's a place to think and be free, but it's also a hub of activity free from too much human influence. Some people will argue that a lake is just as good, but I disagree (I'm lucky.. I live within driving distance, or walking if I have hours, of both a lake and the ocean). Lakes are too contained; they are surrounded by homes and parks quite often, and can become over-populated with boats and swimmers. The magnitude of the ocean prevents it from feeling as cluttered as a lake, and its beaches seem to be more wild. Lakes aren't as tumultuous as the ocean in storms, and they will never hold that distinct ocean smell. No, I can't imagine living years without the ocean, but I'm definitely willing to give it a try for the summer!
