The End of the Jetty

Last Sunday morning I rose when it was still dark and drove to the tip of the Balboa Peninsula, whereupon I scrambled over the rocks to the end of the west jetty at the entrance to Newport Harbor. I’ve lived in this area my whole life, but I’m not sure that I had ever made it out there before. However, I’d had a hankering to do so because an image of that spot had been swirling around in my head for a few weeks, and I was well-rewarded for my efforts. Now I do live in an amazing area, but it never ceases to amaze me what there is to be discovered just a few minutes from our front doors. The trick is that we actually have to walk out of our doors in search of adventure. If we’re busy and we don’t care, then we’re not likely to experience anything truly amazing. Yet, if we actively pursue beauty or wonder or adventure there is plenty to be found within striking distance of wherever you may be. An open mind and a little creativity can often open doors of experience that we might never have thought possible. I’m trying to learn to approach each day with the thought, “Well God, what have you got in store for me today?” That’s the kind of open-ended question which is more than likely to deliver.

The other thing I find is that being up and ready to go in the morning makes a world of a difference if we want to discover all that life has to offer. If we’re spending our whole lives just barely getting ready in time for the next calendar item we’re liable to walk or drive right by some of the best moments that life has to offer. Much of life happens in the margins, in the blank squares on our calendars or extra moments in a day. Take, for instance, my experience of last Sunday that I have relayed in the paragraph above and the poem below. I woke early in expectation of something worthwhile happening. I drove and walked and boulder hopped and had the margin in my life to sit out on the end of the jetty all by myself for an hour. I experienced all that, actually saw all of those animals up close, felt the ocean spray on my face, experienced the wonder of creation first-hand and reveled in the beauty of an amazing new day … and still made it to church on time. That’s what I mean by actively pursuing beauty and wonder and adventure. Half of life is simply showing up, just being available to live it to the fullest.

For those who are willing to approach life, or any given day, with that attitude there is a rich reward waiting for them. Not a monetary reward, but the simple joy which comes from actually living life. The proverbial brass ring isn’t always even tangible. I understand that not everyone has the good fortune to have the ocean so near at hand. However, there are pockets of beauty and wonder everywhere. There are sunrises and sunset everywhere. There are perfect flowers and majestic trees and dew-covered spider webs everywhere. The secret of enjoying life to the fullest isn’t about where you are, but who you are. It isn’t about what we see, but how we see. You can never find happiness or experience joy by simply being in the right place; physically or financially, or whatever. It’s about being a person who is willing to experience happiness and joy, being willing to go out and look for it … wherever you are.

So I challenge you to ask that question. “Well God, what have you got in store for me today?” Ask that question and then get out of bed or off of your comfy chair or away from your desk for a little while, and then go look for the answer. Me? I hiked to the end of the jetty, and I wasn’t disappointed. How about you?

The End of the Jetty

I hiked to the end of the jetty,
to its point, at the end of all things
In the grey of an early spring morning,
to see what the moment would bring
With the land and its worries behind me,
I gazed out over the sea
To the edge of the far horizon,
letting my mind wander free
The surf rose and crashed about me,
breaking, it seemed, at my feet
Flooding my morning with thunder
and the spray that I find so sweet
The bell buoy clanged out its cadence
as it tossed in irregular swells
While the seals who perched upon it
called out to me, “all is well”
Countless sea gulls serenaded,
swooping or bobbing nearby
A curious pelican joined me,
then sized me up eye to eye
A pod of dolphins meandered past,
not more than a stone’s throw away
But they took their leave and swam on
after bidding me a good day
Starfish clung to the rocks below,
in patches of orange and red
As the relentless waves strove doggedly
to dislodge them from their bed
Sea lions worked the edge of my perch,
as the bait fish darted and dashed
In their timeless dance with predators,
while the ocean foamed and crashed
Down in the depths the brilliant orange
of garibaldi could be seen
Among the restless arms of kelp
which fringed the waters green
All this I observed on that morning
and the images flood my head
Such beauty and wonder savored
while most folks were still warm in bed
But I hiked to the end of the jetty,
by myself in the earliest grey
To let the ocean wash over my soul,
and usher in a glorious day
             By Frank Carpenter ©

Seaside Solace

I have had occasion of late to revisit the subject of grief. Since I am no stranger to that bitter friend it often figures prominently in my own writings, whether they involve my personal experiences or those shared with others. My most recent foray down the more difficult side of memory lane led me to some observations which had not previously occurred to me. I wrote those previous three sentences several hours ago, intending to explore this subject and conclude with the poem below entitled “Seaside Solace,” which I penned after my father’s passing a few years ago. Strangely, just as I sat down this evening complete these thoughts I received a phone call informing me that my father’s oldest and dearest friend had passed away last week. This comes as a somewhat disconcerting coincidence, in the very midst of my little essay on grief. I suppose, at the very least, that it serves to make my words all the more poignant this evening. So among other things, this will serve as a tribute to Lou Pappan as well.

As I mull over this most recent turn of events, we will return to the point of my original observations. In times of grief we tend to turn to areas of passion in our lives to help us deal with heartache and pain. We find comfort in that which we find most familiar, especially if those things are natural stress relievers for us. Each of us is wired differently so we tend to respond to varying occupational therapies. Some folks look to music or art, others to exercise or reading. Some people crave relationship while others seek solitude to work out their feelings. It can come as no surprise that grief, like so many other issues, drives me to write. That is because I think slowly and find it comforting to work out my feelings on paper. I believe it was the author E.M. Forester who once wrote, “How can I know what I think until I see what I said?” Those words capture beautifully the therapeutic value of the written word for those like me who use it to come to terms with their own thoughts and feelings. My heart is also deeply wrapped up in the ocean, which I find to be utterly relaxing and inspirational. No wonder, then, that after my own father’s passing I found myself down at the shore penning the words of the poem which I offer you today. Perhaps it can be a comfort to others as well.

In closing, I encourage each of you to consider carefully what your areas of passion and interest are. These are the things to turn to when you have need of comfort in your own life. Sometimes it helps to have our hands or minds occupied while God is working on our hearts. Even when there seems to be no joy we can still find peace through our passions. I wish you all the best today and encourage you to send this on to others if you know people who could use these words of comfort. I also leave you with a photo from my own recent beach wanderings.

Seaside Solace
I brought my grief-stricken heart to the ocean
Back to my favorite of places once more
Carried it down to the water’s edge
And laid it gently upon the shore
To let the cool, cleansing sea
Begin to dissolve the plaque of despair
While the ageless motion of the waves
Washed away the silt of care
Letting the music of the surf
Flow through the deepest parts of me
Until solace ebbed within my heart
And sorrow drifted out to sea
By Frank Carpenter ©