I Ching Sea Change
I almost might have thought that my weekend doldrums would be unshakable. Given the Monday to do nothing, save laundry and the laborious task of having to feed myself, I attempted to repair the mood swing that Sunday brought on. To my fortune, Mother Nature (or is it El Nino) decided to make Monday one hell of a day: sunny, slightly breezy and crystal clear. Weather talk seems so boring when laid out on a seldom-read blog, but when you're in the midst of it, with very little distractions, it can be your own personal Jesus.
So, I rode. Pointed west, as always. Ended up in Venice, of course. Walked my bike out to the sand and laid down in the warm beige sand. It should be so cliche to find your emotion center whilst peering off into the crashing blue waves. I also began dragging my hand to-and-fro through the sand in front of me. Just like those miniature zen garden with the little rake, it honestly did drown out all of the racket in my head. It's very easy to lose yourself there. Spending hours looking down into the sand, behaving in ways that would, under normal circumstances, have on-lookers believing that you were mentally deficient. At the beach, especially Venice Beach, even the mentally deficient seem in their place; at peace.
A life of beach-bummery for me? No, thanks. Living near it is quite enough.