It is now 7:45 am and I've been awake for a little over an hour. Kelly's taking her MCAT this morning, and since we both have this spectacular propensity to oversleep, I decided to be her back-up alarm just in case. She didn't need me after all, but I couldn't get back to sleep, which is almost more uncommon than how often I OVERsleep. My thoughts were overpoweringly busy; I must have received some of Kelly's test-day jitters by osmosis. So I decided to take a walk.
Now, the last time I was awake before 7 am was probably to mentally shout obscenities at the never-ending re-model project next door. Getting myself out the door by 7 am usually means it probably took a good 20 minutes too long to get out of bed and that I mechanically performed the bare minimum of tasks to look presentable. Then I look at the time, realize I'm going to be late, and the race begins. I dump some coffee into a travel mug, leave, realize I forgot something important (like my keys), go back in, find the forgotten item, and then really leave. The ride to wherever I'm going is usually focused, but only because my mind isn't working well enough for me to think about much else.
I've always marveled at that species of people called "morning people," who will deliberately get up earlier than they have to enjoy the morning's cool, its quiet, and their optional solitude. I am not a morning person.
Except that today, I AM one of those people. I got up, changed clothes, and headed out to see who and what the morning in Belmont Shore looked like. Can I just say, "beautiful." People were doing their thing...walking dogs, walking themselves, buying lattes. Few were dressed for work, but most people were in athletic gear. Women were in pairs or small groups, turned to each other and focusing on their friends' hearts. Men were reading papers or chatting with passersby. As a member of this club, I played the part and got in line for my own latte in my semi-athletic wear. I chatted with the baristas who were discussing marathons (glad I know something about those!) and stepped back out into the morning. This is when it gets good.
I live by the beach. Wait, let me rephrase that. I live at the beach. There is the "big" beach, the one that faces open ocean, and there is the "pretty" beach, which is more of an inlet. I walked down the "pretty" beach, latte in hand, breathing the morning. And the sea. The sea was still and reflective, and it would have looked like glass except the faintest heartbeat just stirring the surface made it alive. A mirror can only show what it sees, but the water was its own entity; part of what surrounded it and mostly all itself. And below the cool salt-taste, a world.
Kind of like people, except the salt part. We can be still and reflect what's around us, but there is always that heartbeat of individuality and depths no one can see, but can only learn over time. And part of what we reflect is what made us into what we are. If the sea did not have boundaries, its comparison would be useless because there would only be sea and no land. If we were not shaped by countless tiny experiences, we wouldn't be our own entities, mingling with each other as we walk our dogs and sip our lattes. I think that's worth waking up for. And it's beautiful.
No comments:
Post a Comment