I’m thinking of…
… a beach. This beach is long and stretches all the way into the horizon. It’s wide and deserted. It’s not a bay but an open coastline, so waves come crashing at their own good times, there really is no way you can get away from the powerful sound of the waters here. The other side of the wide sandy beach line is framed with the green, fresh and pine. Green hills slightly clouded by a bluish mist are on that other part of the horizon, facing the azure of the ocean.
There’s an occasional couple or a family to be seen here and there, as well as those seeking their solitude. It’s not hot, you actually have to be wearing jeans, jacket and sneakers to feel comfortable, though the sun is really bright and you wish you had your sunglasses on. It’s breezy enough but somehow there’s no disturbing feeling about it. The beach is in a city, so you can easily imagine it crowded at the weekends. Now it’s weekday daytime. Perfect time for a stroll.
This is what I’m seeing right now. This is what I’m experiencing. This might actually be My Perfect Beach. And I’m thinking of finally writing down and getting out what I’ve had imprinted in the back of my mind for 20 years, what I’ve told at least 4 people here in Korea about, something that has now gained enough strength to show up from the deep corners and is not afraid to grow.
This not-so-secret “something” is about the beach.
I don’t see how I could possibly write anything other than ultimately personal from a place like this. I see myself coming to such quiet beach on my own, sitting down facing the water, which would be coming as close as only 3 meters from reaching my feet in its mighty tidal wave. I cannot picture myself writing down pretentious lines from this place. I can, though, imagine I would yield to letting go of barriers that keep my mind (and language, as a consequence) think in terms of limits. I can imagine I would write my heart out, because it’s being called out from a source more demanding an honest answer than that of a promise to myself, a resolution “to write”, or a blog post title and notes in drafts.
So I used to think I can’t write from anywhere else rather than my desk in Moscow, at any time other than comfortable, safe and lonely nighttime. Apparently I’ve been proven wrong, by this beach, this day, and this ocean, as this post is just writing itself.
This place makes me think of other things, too.
It makes me think of just how many beaches I haven’t seen, and how few (and awful as in touristy) those I have seen are.
It makes me think again of how lucky I am to have found out I enjoy being on my own (and that I can bravely enough openly state it here).
It makes me think it’s relatively easy to live with no strings attached, or to cut those strings, in order to indulge yourself in what it is your soul is asking for. Or at least to go looking for it.
My perfect walk on a beach is a walk I make on my own, all the way along, stopping where I want to, staring at the sand, seashells, masses of water that I’m actually so scared of. This walk gives me a chance to stare into those parts of my Self, which so easily get neglected and underrated in the busy city routine.
I am thinking of a beach and what my life would be like in a place like that.
I’m thinking of a change to make.
I’m grateful to Anne Hendler for several things: (1) for letting me spend the whole day with her and her students; (2) for the sweet tangerines; (3) for the attitude towards students I have yet to learn; (4) for showing me the wonderful, special beach and in this way helping me (maybe unknowingly) find the right mood and enough courage to write this blog post. It is as different as my writing could ever get in this space. It is as personal as I can possibly make it. It is quite scary to hit “publish” right now, several hours after writing it from that rocking bench on that fantastic beach in Gangneung, too. But long live #livebloggingparty 🙂 I can hit “publish” now as I’m not alone.
Thank you for reading. Here you can read Anne’s post written on that beach.