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the ocean puts it in perspective

earlier today i was depressed, marinating in my own juices-of-self-pity, literally moist due to the current 99% humidity level that has engulfed new haven. i was peevish because last night, for the first time i can remember since childhood, a thunderstorm woke me up and terrified me. at about 4am our house shuddered repeatedly from the violence; the thunder and lightning were synchronized (which means the storm was directly upon us, i believe). in my vulnerable half-asleep state alone in my twin bed (which sounds pathetic, but really the whole single bed purchase was a 'lifestyle choice' which i rarely question except in moments such as these) i pleaded with god, "god, if you exist, please don't let me get struck by lightening. it is not my time yet. i haven't written the next great american novel yet. i haven't seen the world...." i stared up at the ceiling waiting for the bolt of electricity to come shooting through the plaster into my soft vital organs. "god, please. if it strikes and kills me it may be better than if it just maims me. i have no health insurance. i can't deal with the expenses. it will bankrupt my family...."

the storm abated after what seemed like hours. i could still hear its low grumbling voice in the distance as i fell asleep. and then i had nightmares for the first time in a long time; one of which involved me suddenly being thrust into an 'american idol' deathmatch where not only did i not know the song but also could not carry a tune. which is true--i can't carry a tune. i do not, however, watch 'american idol'.

so today as i sat at my computer, glum and hot and surly, my life seeming as oppressively bleak as the weather itself, a miracle occurred. lafe came knocking upon my door entreating me to ride bikes with him to west haven beach. my initial reaction was revulsion at:
1. the idea of leaving the house
2. using my body in a physical manner in this hot humid weather.
3. having to put on clothes suitable to leaving the house.

but, knowing these were crummy reasons to stay home, i went. i rode. it was the best thing i could possibly have done.

new haven, though i often forget, is smack dab on the coast of the long island sound. unfortunately the waterfront is divided from the city proper by interstate 95, and the shoreline is blighted with industrial processing plants and their waste products. so i don't often think of it as a haven from the rigors of urban life. but riding my bike along long wharf, and then into west haven and along its more pristine coast, i still felt blissful oceanic exhileration.

the smell of the brine, the sight and sound of seabirds, the feel of the sand under my bike's tires... all were such a departure from the monotony of sidewalks and pavement, of lawns and curbs. we then spent a couple of hours at west haven beach, where lafe swam and we sat upon the jetty talking about adulthood and childhood (we have known each other through both) and what we want. though the sandwich bags and soda bottles floating around lafe's semi-immersed body distracted me at first from truly appreciating west haven beach, eventually i was able to forget them. it may be polluted and an armpit of the sound, but it is a beach. i need to remember this as i often dismiss it as not really being one because of its flaws.

perhaps this could be a metaphor for how i treat myself--and how i should change my self-perception. i tend to feel like my own personal flaws invalidate me as being a genuine 'adult'. i need to give west haven beach and myself a break. (i must note, however, that i, unlike the aformentioned beach, am not littered with trash.)

before = after