Resistance

It’s strangely satisfying to stand still on the wet sand as breaking waves crash past me up the beach, where the water pauses, then retreats past me down to the sea.

As a kid, that’s pretty much all I did when we went to the beach. I knew how to swim and ride the waves, I even owned a Boogie Board, and some of the guys were starting to surf and that seemed exciting, at first, but every time no matter who I was with or what we were doing I always ended up rooted in the sand, resisting the waves.

I would spend hours just standing there, my ears hearing nothing but the sounds of the crashing waves, my nose filled with that salty seaweedy smell, my eyes seeing only the waves forming in the distance, my body automatically swaying forward into the water’s push then back against its pull, my feet slowly sinking into layer after layer of wet sand, rooting me to the spot as hundreds of waves packed with salt and thousands of tumbling tiny grains of sand crashed into me, abrading my lower legs till they were red and raw.

What could be satisfying in that? I think the solitude and constant motion and sensory overload washed away my old thoughts and left my mind free to glide about like a sailboat floating in the distance, drifting wherever the wind and water took it, skimming effortlessly over the same corrosive water that was eating away at all that resisted, from my rooted ankles to the massive rocks looming over us at the beach, slowly but surely pounding everything into sand.

I left the beach behind when I left home for college.

Many years later I rediscovered the satisfaction of standing still when my daughter was a toddler, barely able to stand, her small hands swallowed by mine as she bravely faced the roaring mountain of seawater that would pull her under and wash her away from me unless I lifted her up and over the water just in time to her squeals of delight then plopped her down just before the next one. We'd spend hours out there, cheating the raging waters again and again.

Today she follows the big kids out to sea, paddling out beyond the swells to float on her board like a sailboat disappearing over the horizon, occasionally riding a wave in then turning around and paddling out again, no sign of staying put while I still stand there rooted in the sand, watching her float away while the waves keep on pounding, slowly wearing my resistance down. It's strangely satisfying.