Sunday, June 14, 2009

Summertime...


I love the ocean. I don't know why since I get sea sick so easily and I hate to swim where I can't see the bottom, and I don't particularly enjoy seafood - but there is a calming affect on my soul when I am near one. I am drawn to the beauty of the expanse, and the playful water's edge. I love the rhythm and regularity of the waves. I love to walk along the beach and get sand between my toes. I love to snorkel among fish and crawling things and thrill at the discovery of a whole different world below the surface. I love to bask in the soft light of sunsets and sunrises over immense ocean skies. Such moments bring me solace and peace.


Family vacations bring a different kind of solace - of being and coming together and bonding as a family in ways that only new settings facilitate as we remove ourselves from the routine, of creating fond memories that will be reflected upon for generations, of healing the stress and pain of everyday life, of marking accomplishments made and celebrating new beginnings for the future. This summer brings a particular change to our family dynamics as three of the four will be "leaving the nest" and making us almost, but not quite empty nesters this fall. And so, this family time was particularly meaningful.


Family vacations and oceans together should bring an abundance of solace. In many ways, it has. But with some ocean beaches, particularly sub-tropical ones that are frequented by our gay brothers in quantities of lovely couplehood, come an abundance of delicious eye candy and temptations - triggering desires and thoughts and wishes for something else, a longing for what one cannot have (or what one has chosen to not have), a hope for some reconciliation of unfulfilled needs, a constant reminder that no matter how peaceful the surroundings, nor how wonderful the family time, nor how binding the bonding, nor how memorable the memories, the internal and lonely struggle continues on.


I'm not saying this is unique in any way to me (we all go through it) - just making the observation... It doesn't have to be this way, but I have chosen it to be this way. And as much as I envy and long and desire that which I "cannot" have, I am content with my choice and I'll sit back and soak in the memory of the family togetherness, the expansive ocean sky, and the beautiful eye candy as I try to heal my aching sunburned shoulders...

Happy Summer!

8 comments:

Bror said...

Ah yes, the beach. I haven't been there for about 3 years. I to love it much. Funny, the first thing I remember about our last trip there is watching a hot guy surf each day from his condo on the beach. :)

Grant Haws said...

There something about the grand immensity of the ocean that makes me incredibly reflective as well. I'm glad that you're getting some time to spend with family there, even if it creates some torn feelings in your heart.

Ned said...

If in our Father's house are many mansions, there are likely to be many beaches as well.

By living the good life you lead, by loving your wife and kids and honoring your covenants, and still asking the questions you ask, you're helping to prepare beaches for families and friends of all types, even those subject to sunburn.

Bravone said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Bravone said...

As my wife is fond of saying, "life's a beach." I kind of have to chuckle because you comment on eye candy reminded me of a potentially embarrassing moment this week.

I was driving back to the office after lunch, along the beautiful Snake River in Idaho Falls, when I spotted some good looking guys sunbathing in the grass. Without realizing, I instinctively slowly swerved toward the curb. I quickly corrected my driving and nearly ran into a passing car. I can just imagine trying to explain what caused the crash!

My motto, enjoy and drive on!

Beck said...

BROR: Nice to know I'm not the only one that watches the "hot guy surf each day from his condo". :)

GRANT: I do become very reflective and tranquil around the ocean. It is very therapeutic for me and gives me a needed sense of pause - even if the associated triggers that tear at my heart come with the scenery. I don't know if I would become less pensive if I were to live at the beach - something to the concept of not having the ocean so readily in my backyard that draws me to it. Yet, at the same time, the Wasatch Mountains in my backyard constantly serve as the same source of renewal.

Beck said...

NED: My vision of eternal mansions will be full of mountains and oceans and beaches... none of the marble steps and generic stone columns supporting whispy shear curtains, as some may portray. Maybe I'm just too terrestrial.

As for "helping to prepare for others", I'm not sure what you mean or what you think I'm doing to help - I don't see it. I just see me constantly torn and daily making the decision to live with the choices I've made.

BRAVONE: I LOVE IT!!!! I've done the "near accident" thing so many times, I'm just grateful those incidents haven't ended in the real thing.

It's funny how this behavior / reaction is typical among us and there is something comforting to realize I'm not alone - for so much of my life I've felt like I'm the only one out there suffering from whiplash, especially along a warm sunny beach.

Thanks for the good laugh. I'm laughing WITH you, not AT you, and I'm glad you were able to recover in time... :)

Bror said...

Happy Father's Day