Friday, May 6, 2016
I am not a lover of the water. When I was in Waikiki last month I sat at the water’s edge and let the waves roll over me. I tried standing in it, but I found the feeling when the water moved back out very scary. As if the undertow was going to carrying me away with it and I’d be lost at sea.
I grew up with the beach at Lake Michigan walking distance from where I lived. When the wind blew we had big waves, by lake standards, and there was known to be undertow. I’d get wet to cool off, but I glad to get out of the water.
What’s funny is that I find being near water instantly calming. So when we did some seminars in Long Beach, I was happy with th view. Of course we positioned the chairs so our attendees faced away from the windows. They never would have paid attention otherwise.
While they listened, I sat transfixed by the view. The mound in the distance is Catalina and I thought of all the different views I’d had of the island from the times I’d taken a boat there to flying parallel to it as my plane got ready to turn and head east to Chicago.
Boats came into the marina and then the sky and water grew to be the same color as the sun slipped toward the water. The day faded into darkness and soon I could see my face reflected I the glass more than the water beyond. I was sorry when our time there was done and there were no more views of water to take away the kinks of the day.
I guess water really is fine – as long as I don’t have to go into it.