Undertow

Another great Sunday here in Dana Point! The day started off with some morning clouds but they burned off pretty quickly. I am out the door for the beach at 9:45. I am meeting someone in the Strand parking lot who wants to become more comfortable in the water. So we are gonna chat ocean stuff - my favorite topic!

I’ve got my grocery shopping out of the way already which I would usually do later on a Sunday afternoon. I feel like I have the whole Trader Joes store layout perfectly mapped out in my subconscious now. It seems like I don’t even need to think about what and where to get it. I am in and out of there in about 15 minutes with a week’s worth of groceries.

I get to the parking lot and meet my new friend and I show her Surfline and where the rocks are and try to explain what is perilous and what is not. It’s not easy for me to do since I grew up here and going to the beach and getting in the water feels as common as checking the mail. It is easy to forget that to most people, the ocean is a huge mystery that wants to kill you. It’s still a mystery to me for sure but it is here to give me life.

To tell the truth, there are lots of times when I am afraid of the ocean. I am not a big breath holder. I enjoy the act of breathing - breathing freely whenever I want to. I prefer to avoid situations that might limit my ability to take a breath whenever I want - like large surf. However, large surf really isn’t the norm here. Most days at a Dana Point beach are fairly benign. To many, what I would consider a small wave is huge and what I would consider comfortable water is freezing. This makes sense when you have no point of reference to judge what is large and what is small. Regardless of size, you absolutely have zero control over a wave - that alone can be scary.

So we get to the shore and I explain that what we are looking at is not large surf and most people could just remain standing and let the wave wash over them and they would be fine and even if it knocked you over, you would not be held under. I explain that, to my knowledge, our local beaches are not susceptible to life threatening “undertows.” I’m pretty sure I’m right about that.

We part ways and I start my swim. I start to wonder, did I lock my car? Did I put my keys in my lock box? Did I lock the lock box? Please tell me I did not leave my keys in the car. I’m not used to interacting with other people at the beach (or most other places) and I hope that in my conversation I did not get distracted and forget something fundamental. I have this image of me walking back to my apartment complex and stepping shirt and shoesless into the leasing office asking for a key. I am happy to report that all was fine and I did all the things I usually do like locking my car.

The swim is great. The water felt cool at first but I adapted quite quickly and it was all absolutely lovely. The current was fairly strong again but weaker than Friday. It was definitely pushing me north all the way to the Monarch Bay Beach Club but the swim back was far less than harrowing. Water visibility was so so. The weekend’s surf competition was still underway at Salt Creek. Despite the smaller waves, it at least looked like there was something out there to surf.

I just settled in and yielded to the swim and the movement on the water. I had played some piano before leaving, and had the piece I was playing running as background music over most of the swim - very enjoyable. This piece is something I stumbled upon a few months ago. I use the word “piece” very loosely. When I improvise on the piano, I am constantly playing with different scales and chord progressions. Sometimes I purposely try to think of random chords and then put them together in ways that sound interesting to me. Anyways, I inevitably find myself falling into a smaller collection of chord and melody patterns that somehow resonate with me. I often wonder, have I found these notes or have they found me? The motif I was playing today I have played before in different keys and rhythm patterns but there is a top line melody that is distinct.

I find this melody haunting. I give myself very little credit (I do give myself some) for discovering it. Who knows maybe it comes from some long lost sound track I heard and it buried itself in my psyche and now it is resurfacing. I don’t know, but it feels like it holds a story. Somehow these notes are encoded with some narrative that mirrors my soul. I am totally serious about this. I feel like if I could uncover that narrative, I might learn quite a lot about myself.

I wish I could say more about the swim but I feel like there is nothing more to say. I look back now on the whole experience and I just feel this sensation of serene pleasantness. I think I would like to do that again soon.