After 17 years in California, the Pacific remains a mystery to me.
Is there any other place in the world where, on the same beach, at the same time, you’ll see young women wearing bikinis alongside dog-walkers bundled up in a down coat and beanie?
I’ve tried surfing a handful of times. The only time I wasn’t terrified was in the Dominican Republic with Heather playing the role of cheerleader, and also one time in Mexico with Margi on a hot day with an instructor who pushed us into the waves. I’ve made peace with the fact that it will probably never be my thing.
I grew up in proximity to the Mediterranean, a warm-water creature through and through. I’m used to sea water cradling me like a baby. The Pacific is like a giant. It’s not malevolent, but it will pummel and squash you because that’s what it does.
I’m not sure whether it’s related to our leaving, but recently I’ve been more willing to submerge myself in the cold water. A couple of weeks ago, at Muir Beach, Rachel coached me to think of the temperature of the water as information and not some big drama. My skin prickled and my heartbeat accelerated, and I convinced myself to think, how curious. I dove into a wave, feeling its velvety weight, my breath catching, then releasing. Back on land, I felt phosphorescent, energy coursing through every cell, my brain empty and luminous.
I’m not looking forward to the crushing freeze of a New England winter. Then again, that number on the weather app is just information. What would it look like to stay curious? To wear the appropriate, unfashionable layers and go for a brisk walk or snowshoe in the forest?
I’ve fallen in love with the Pacific Ocean. Today, we walked down the beach for a mile or two with Jessica and Jordan and then joined the families, retirees, and freaks hanging out on Neptune to watch the sun slink down the sky, unfurling a golden ribbon across the blue. We watched the surfers do their thing, slicing across the water, graceful and impossibly brave.
It hurts to say goodbye to all this unfettered beauty. Instead, I’ll say “see you soon,” just as I would to a friend.
Hagar Writes 