I made Brendan drive us all out to Wellfleet last week during our vacation in Cape Cod. It was out of the way and took awhile to get there, but I insisted and he relented and even agreed that perhaps it was a good idea. I just felt this strange need to be there, in a place where I had once stood decades before; I felt as though my soul needed to breathe in that particular air and gaze upon on that particular stretch of sand.
While standing at the edge of the water, at the point where ocean meets land, I was reminded of some things that seem important and noteworthy. Before me the sea spread out, wide and expansive, reaching as far as nowhere and more powerful than anything. The sand dunes, like mountains, plunge down steeply to meet it and in between the two I realized this: we are nothing. Insignificant. A mere blip on the radar that is this time on this earth in this universe. The feeling that came with this realization was one of immediate and overwhelming peace: no matter what I do in this life, the world is much, much bigger than my circumstances, choices, mistakes, or ideas at any moment in time. It will all go on whether I am here or not, wave after wave will pound the shore and grains of sand will move in the water and wind and rain.
Then I turned around and saw this:
and this:
Two shivering kids waiting for their mama to finish with her crazy picture taking so they could run on the open expanse in front of them; one husband, knowing his wife needed to see this for some reason that stretches back in time to another family trip that was clouded with grave sadness, waiting patiently for the time to be enough, for the ocean to soak into her pores and restore her.
Seeing them there, waiting for me, I realized that we are bigger than the sky, our actions are broader reaching than any ocean, more grand than any sand dune. The connections we have with the people around us are the biggest thing I know; I remembered that as much as we are nothing we are also everything, entirely significant. All I have to do is look in their eyes and I can see it: we are bigger than we know. Being at that edge, on that particular stretch of sand, refilled my soul and brought back to the forefront all that I know about life and family and friends and connection: slow down and be, give each other a little room and time when it’s needed, live with intention and listen with an open heart. Allow them to grow and change, and bend like the dune grass in the wind when they need me to change and grow. Enjoy this push and pull of life. Dream bigger than the ocean, but remember my own insignificance in all of this.
Perhaps this is why the ocean calls to me, why it calls to so many people across time and religion and state and country and continent: to realize that we are everything and nothing all at once. Maybe we need this reminder as much as we need food and water, air and shelter. Maybe we just need to be able to stand on the edge of something and find an inner peace and a reserve within ourselves that fills whatever emptiness the rest of the world and life carves out. Maybe we just need that reminder to be human again.
