Before I launch into the next tale, I want to let you know that Sea Life Park answered my query about Bailey on the same day I called them to ask. The knowledgeable representative of the Seabird Rehabilitation Facility, Sandra Bingham, told me that she had received 14 shearwaters in boxes on the morning of November 15th. She said that most shearwaters delivered to the Park simply need to gain a little weight to be ready to get back out there, and that most were released in a few days. I hope that this simple fix carried Bailey into the air again.
I act in certain definable ways to make the ocean as comfortable and healthy as possible: reporting the rare oil leak, retrieving the constant marine debris, and caring for the odd stranded marine organism, but what’s in it for me?
Well, quite a bit. I thought I would let you know just what so you might learn what’s in it for you, too.
When I lived near Down to Earth, I used to ride my bike to Kailua Beach before sunrise and dance the sun up—barefoot—at the mouth of Kaelepulu Stream. This ritual felt perfectly natural and good to me. It was my morning coffee, my (dare I say?) cigarette. My improvised emotional breakfast reconnected me with my body, the land, the sea, and my favorite rhythms. I discovered Kailua Beach to be a safe place for a woman to partake in such an activity alone, as long as I arrived just before sunrise. One Wednesday morning, an anomaly, I woke up super early and rode down at 4:30, dropped my backpack by the tree as always, and began to dance. My things—including my bike lock key and $10 earmarked for happy eggs from The Source had been stolen by 6 AM. Dumb of me to trust people that early in the morning, I suppose.
I spent $60 to pay the gentleman from Rusty’s Lock and Key to work for an hour getting my bike lock off the pole, which is a testament to the U-lock. The friendly locksmith was persistent: he worked tirelessly for an hour, and at the end had to lie down on his back in the sand to get the proper angle to finally unshackle my $40 used bike!
Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed myself dancing on the sand, but over time I realized that it was not the best thing for my body. Spinning on a wooden dance floor while wearing slippery leather soled shoes is one thing, but spinning on damp sand where your foot is held in place is quite another. On the beach, you must spin more forcefully to complete each turn, and this takes its toll on your joints. For me, it was a tweak in my knee that made me eventually stop and take notice.
Luckily, the same place where I screwed up my knee also assists me in healing it. I cannot remember who suggested that I rehabilitate by walking in the ocean, but I thank this person!
The waves of both Kailua and Lanikai are perfect for such a practice, as they usually roll in gently without much “crash,” presenting little risk to swimmers and drifters of all ages. The water is shallow near the shoreline and generally clean, and the bottom consists mostly of gorgeous rippling soft coral sand, the grains of which are finer in Lanikai (as are the homes, lol!). If you are new to splashing in the ocean, Kailua and Lanikai are magnificent places to begin.
To help heal my knee, I walk toward the horizon until the water reaches just above the affected joint, then I hold my arms out straight as if I were on a balance beam. I walk parallel to the beach: forward and backward, and facing both directions (toward the Marine base and toward Lanikai). The water flowing around my entire knee provides a soft and strong joint stabilizer, and the walking itself strengthens the muscles and attachments that work with the joint. The technique also helps with balance, of course, and I have discovered that if I walk long enough and reach out beyond my fingers, my pectoral muscles and deltoids will stretch in a delicious way I have never duplicated while on land. And yes, when I dry off, my knees feel better; I can usually hold that feeling until the next time I overdo it on the dance floor. I also walk in the waves as “preventative medicine,” which I find can gift me weeks before the next twinge of pain.
Most of the emotional benefits from being in or near the ocean are not easily set to words, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s how it should be. Mystery can remain so and be lovely as such. There are two things I can articulate here however, and I will relate them to see if you have experienced them, too. I have heard many people bring up the term “negative ions” when referring to the mood-boosting power of the ocean. I just learned in this 2002 article from WebMD that moving water changes the air nearby by essentially breaking it up, creating negatively charged molecules that counteract positively charged ones created by, say, your computer. ;) An excerpt from the article by Denise Mann: “While part of the euphoria is simply being around these wondrous settings and away from the normal pressures of home and work, the air circulating in the mountains and the beach is said to contain tens of thousands of negative ions -- much more than the average home or office building, which contain dozens or hundreds, and many register a flat zero.” The more negative ions surrounding you, the better your mood.
When I’m really upset—wound tight—and I get in the water and hold myself still, the beating and rocking of the waves on me . . . insistent, persistent, consistent . . . have the power to break down the walls and draw out the tension. There is no judgment; the ocean is objective, right? And no real words; the ocean does not speak with the language I write with. Yet I emerge feeling I have been cared for deeply and allowed to gently free myself from what I had used to bind me.
With each wave, I let in more
You are okay
Everything is going to be okay
You are allowed to feel that
It is okay
I can handle it
It is all right
You are safe
You are loved
And then back to the beginning again.
For this and more, I am grateful! And so I thank the ocean.
Happy New Year, Dear Readers. Best of all things to you and yours.
The above column was originally posted in January of 2013, in the online newsletter kailua411.org. It was reprinted here with permission from the publisher. The newsletter is no longer online.