Since I don’t live anywhere near the ocean/sea I don’t get to use this word very often. Seaside is a term reserved for vacations, or stolen hours while I’m traveling on business trips. Every (incredibly scientific) internet personality survey I’ve completed recently, though, tells me that I should be living seaside. The seaside around the Pacific northwest, to be even more accurate.
I’m not quite sure how that happens either–because I have fallen in love with that area of the country in my travels in the last year. The Midwest girl who’s always claimed that Iowa is, and will always be home, yearns for ocean views these days. With recent stops in Seattle and a stolen day to drive up the Oregon coast, I cannot deny the appeal of that part of the country. And maybe, just maybe, it’s one of my favorite poems influence.
Maggie & Millie & Molly & May
maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach (to play one day)
and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles,and
milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;
and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles: and
may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.
For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea
When I’m on the beach what I find is the rhythm of the tides, I’d like to think that it syncs with my heartbeat, but really it allows my thoughts to quiet and I re-learn to breathe deeply. Walking in the woods will calm my thoughts as well, but it takes the ocean (or another form of meditation) to truly take my breath away (or restore it).