Through the Debris

So this evening I decided to once again take advantage of the fact that it is summer here, and I am staying mere blocks away from a very nice beach.  I wanted to walk from one end of the shore to the other, with the goal of catching a nice sunset in the process.  So with my mp3 player in my ears, and shoes in hand, I set out.  At first it was quite ideal.  Tepid water lapping at my feet over smooth, soft sand.  The stuff postcards are made of.  Then there were piles of seaweed here and there which I skirted, then dodged, then found myself hopping over.  See, wimpy confession here:  Ever since I was a kid I’ve hated the feel of seaweed.  It’s just…  icky.  But soon enough there were just piles upon piles of seaweed.  So eventually I was just walking over a carpet of it.  Then came the rough bit.  The part of the shore that was more pebbles and broken shells than sand.  I thought to turn back, but, no, I wanted to get to the other end.  So I braved my way through it (wincing now and then, I admit.)  However it is on this part of the beach that I did find a couple of truly lovely, intact shells, which I washed off and pocketed when they dried.

Finally I was at the other end.  Triumph.  Perhaps it was the music in my ears making a sort of soundtrack, but I was struck by brilliance.  This walk along the shore was a metaphor for life.  Easy at first, then dodging the icky stuff, until there was no choice but to wade through the icky stuff.  And then the rough stuff.  The painful stuff.  To come out on the other side.  Inspired, I spotted the rocks rising up out of the coast.  The rugged, huge rocks made smooth by the surf.  I was going to climb those rocks to overlook the sea.  It would be representative of my ultimate victory.  So I started my climb.  Cautiously, but with no intent of backing down.  I managed via some wobbly stepping stones to make it.  Such satisfaction.  This was surely representative of what would ultimately be my victory in this life. 

I stood there for a while.  Watching the last rays of the sun disappear.  As the last stragglers on the beach departed.  As the waves began to get stronger…  wait.  The tide was coming in.  As it was getting dark.  And my stepping stones had…  disappeared?

No problem.  I was victorious after all.  I managed to feel my way with my feet, wading into the water just a bit as I did so, trying to find my path back to shore.  And just as I was one step away from the big rock closest to shore…  I fell.

So much for victory.

I did manage to catch myself with my hands before falling face first into the rocks.  And I did manage to keep myself from falling into the water.  And I did manage to keep hold of both my shoes and my bag in the process.  Not only that, the shells I found earlier were still intact in my pocket.

So perhaps victorious after all?

I did stub my toes, but could still wiggle them so nothing serious.  Though a couple did begin to swell immediately and I figured I ought to head back to the hotel while I could still walk.

Leaving the beach, I realized the neighborhood wasn’t familiar.  See in my quest to get to the other side, I didn’t think that the path to and from the other side of the beach might come out on the other end of town from my hotel.

Oops.

So I started walking in the direction of my hotel.  And walking.  And walking.  And then, as my toes’ swelling became more prominent, limping.  Hoping I was going in the right direction at least!  Hoping I wasn’t limping through a bad neighborhood.

I made it back.  Obviously.

At first I laughed at myself and my silly notion of a beach walk as a metaphor for life.  I figured that the fall was a higher power’s way of saying “Ha ha, you fool.”

But then I started thinking.  Maybe the important part wasn’t the walk.  Or the fall.  But rather the walk back to the hotel.  Lost.  Limping.  But continuing to move forward until I arrived.  Maybe that’s really what life is all about.

Or maybe it was just the result of being utterly ridiculous in thinking that scaling slippery rocks on a strange beach at night with no one around was a good idea.