Over the course of the last few of months I have become obsessed with the need to travel, to find a beach, to feel the sand and hear the sound of the crashing waves.
It is funny how something that I once took so much for granted, is so incredibly missed now, that I would almost do anything for the chance to experience it again. I don’t think its natural for anyone born on a tropical island to be this far away from a beach.
Try as I may, I can’t recall the exact moment when I decided to turn to large bodies of waters to quiet the stress of every day, but then for as long as I can remember they have always just sort of been there. It was always the obvious place to go to, whether to hang out or drown out life…
Its really hard to find yourself afflicted by much of anything life can throw at you when you are standing on the shore. The waves crash at your feet, the sound is soothing in ways that only someone familiar with it can fully comprehend. The sand, annoying as though it may be, offers an odd kind of comfort and distraction. The majestic sky is stunning any time of day or night and together, the immensity of it all allows for the absolute certainty that God is real and no problem is too big or small for He who created such a stunning image for our viewing pleasure.
In the late of 1998, in the company of the then boyfriend, I fell in love with the place that is barely identifiable at the end of the picture. Towards the end of the year, E & I used to spend a lot of time looking out at the waters & listening to the sounds of the crashing sea from the outside of the stunning Castillo San Felipe del Morro in Old San Juan.
At this point in my life my grandfather, who had been the only reliable male figure in my life up until that point, was in the hospital & coincidentally enough my sister was in and out of the same hospital with one of the many different illnesses that plagued her through most of 1999. My mom practically lived in that hospital & my step dad spent much of his time at work and helping out my mom and that created a vacant slots for a pair responsible adults to run the house and manage other areas of life and E & I spent a lot of time graciously [or as graciously as 2 teenagers could] taking over said roles. This place served as a haven, on the weekends, where we could just drown out and sometimes even quiet our hectic life.
By February of 2000 my grandfather passed away and not long after his death E & I went our separate ways, not for his lack of trying or being loving and supportive through my grief. He was perfect, in just about every way a 18 yr old boy can be when his 17 yr old girlfriend’s life is nothing short of a soap opera, and with that break up came the string of horribly thought out decisions that would later become what I now call my life… but I am getting away from the point of the story.
Shortly after E & I went our separate ways, I was introduced to a quiet little piece of heaven [picture not included] by a couple of friends. Slightly hidden in plain sight in the tourist trap that is Isla Verde, and as time went on, this place, the place that for almost a year now I have found myself dreaming about, became like a 2nd home for me. Or maybe more like a 3rd.
It was, or could very well still be, a quiet little strip of beach conveniently close to a bar and even more conveniently empty, where memories & dreams were born. A place that became so close to my heart, I cannot for the life of me remember a single memory that isn’t attached to it in one way or another, and try as hard as I may I cant imagine how it is that I haven’t set foot there in over 7 years.
Its a place where many bad days came to an end, in the company of those who once upon a time knew me better than I knew myself. A place so full of peace that everything else just melted away. A place that embodied love and friendship but most importantly, childhood and innocence. It is a place that represents everything that was simple at a time where it did not seem so. A place that now serves as the reminder of those simpler days, before cell phones and iPod’s, where people could share so much and yet say so little.
I find myself homesick for a place that is not really home and yet the closes thing to. A place that is more of a representation of something than it is something in and of itself, and that can be found simply by locating the nearest beach, which for me, in this God forsaken state is about 8 hrs south or 10 hrs west.
I find myself longing for my safe place. Dreaming of the one thing that always put this insane world into perspective. Hoping beyond hope, for the feel of the sand, the sounds of the crashing waves and the smell of the salty air…. because that is the one place where everything makes sense and yet nothing really matters.
It is where I find peace. Where I feel safe and loved. Where I lay doubts to rest and I am certain of so much more than I ever should be. Its where I always find God’s peace, love and presence.
It is without a doubt the one place on earth where I finally feel like I belong…
It is the ONE place on earth that will ever fully own my heart. It is truly the love of my life.
[Disclaimer: Originally posted to my Jux, http://naryamie.jux.com on January 10th 2014]
Psalms 73 