I love the ocean. Always have. Some people prefer mountains or desert, but I’ve always been a water person. I’ve had jobs in Malibu, Santa Monica, San Pedro, and Long Beach, all within a lunchtime walk to the water. I even worked for a sailing program in the 1990s; break time often meant playing frisbee in a parking lot where an errant throw would send the disk into the water and we had to launch a row boat to retrieve it. And yet during six months of pandemic, it took me until last week to finally take a drive to the beach.
I am a big proponent of feeding your soul and finding your happy place during tough times. I’ve blogged about it, and it’s a recurring subject on the Social Hour that I host for the Center on Tuesdays. I always advise friends to make sure to do the small, simple things that bring joy. Bake a cookie, smell a rose, walk in a park. Sunlight on the ocean with the smell of salt in the air is guaranteed to calm and rejuvenate me. So why didn’t I get down to the water before now?
Driving there wasn’t the problem. I live in West Los Angeles, just ten miles from the beach. My weekly trip into my office at the Senior Center is twice as far. I drive to the supermarket and the post office, and to get take-out food. I even have access to a convertible, and what is more Southern California than a drive along the coast in a convertible with the top down?
It wasn’t exactly that I was making excuses not to take a trip to the ocean. But I wasn’t making time to do it either. With each day sliding into the next, there was always another work project or Zoom class or chore that needed to be done. The monotonous grind of this strange life smothers our senses and makes it hard to keep alert and active.
Finally, last Wednesday, the time was right. It was a lovely day (finally), and I didn’t have a Zoom event or class (amazingly), and Dad’s convertible needs to be driven every so often to keep the battery alive. Why not take a road trip? Dad and I grabbed our hats and sunglasses and headed out for Malibu.
We drove up Pacific Coast Highway our turnaround point being a short excursion up into the hills above the Getty Villa. There wasn’t much traffic on PCH, and lots of free roadside parking so we could pull over without committing to a $10 parking fee. We didn’t scramble down the rocks to the sand (we knew we could get down – not so sure we could get back up!), but it was enough just to stand in the sunshine and watch the waves breaking up and down the beach. A few blissful, carefree moments.
Next time, I won’t wait six months before getting another breath of sea air. And next time, I’ll be sure to bring a picnic.
