identity

Hanging out at Venice Beach feeling infinitesimal

 

The beauty of living in California, in particular the southern part, is that if you are feeling down you can head over to the beach and your day will automatically brighten. Literally! Such a possibility leads to a freer state of mind.  You can go and build a castle and dream of being royalty in a nation far, far away. You can play with the random dogs that are happily panting on the sand as they fetch balls, frisbees and other dogs. You can step into the water and learn to surf or just splash about.

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This past weekend I got in the car and headed out to Venice Beach. I wanted an escape that was nearby. The beach was wide and relatively empty. The boardwalk was filled with the usual characters from muscle beach, skateboarding ramps and hemp shops. Venice Beach, is sadly, a bit more tame than it used to be a decade ago. I am not too sure why that it is. I suppose gentrification in the neighboring streets and houses has caused Venice beach to be a bit more calm. There were still artists showcasing their work. There was someone offering the opportunity to vent about the election. There were those trying to get you to listen to their newly produced music.

 

I was up at the pier taking it all in for a bit. Looking out at the water soaking in its glistening beauty. Just looking out onto the scene I was made to feel tiny. I was just a speck amongst specks. We were all specks. Each floating and moving its own way.  You can stand on the pier and just watch life go on. Or at least one portion was going on. There were young kids learning to surf. There were older adults learning to swim. People were trying to teach themselves new ways of living.  Interestingly, less than 15 miles away there were several thousand people marching in Downtown Los Angeles. There the little specks of life were joining together to shake things up and to ventilate.

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I, meanwhile, was at the beach not sunbathing and soaking in as much Vitamin D as possible. I was at the beach looking for my space. I was one of many and none of us in any way really interconnected. Yet we were connected by the fact we were all in an escape of sorts. We were all hiding out in the wide open.  We were also laughing, thinking and walking. We were moving in our way. It was not a march.  But we were moving with the earth.  And we were just one tiny bit of it.

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