Finding Refuge at Hollywood Beach
I moved to the lakefront on the north shore of Chicago about a year ago. Lake Michigan and Hollywood Beach beckoned me and I couldn’t refuse.
This rather innocuous 3-mile move east stirred and fueled an onslaught of transformation in me, advancing my ongoing exploration of who I am and what I want.
Looking out at the water from my windows high above the earth below is often mesmerizing and slows my heart rate to a lull. But walking on the hard-packed sand 15 floors below creates a sort of Yin/Yang ambiguity of energy, wistfulness, solitude, and peace.
The gratitude that envelops me each time I traipse along the shore is difficult to describe, so I won’t try.
You can find me wandering the lakefront most any day of the week and time of the year, my feet anchored firmly on the ground and my head in the clouds. My beach walk usually follows a rigorous morning workout. I relish in the logical absurdity of bringing my heart rate up to 160 BPM in the gym and then watching it plummet 90 points at the beach.
They say (whoever they are) that not all who wander are lost, but that’s just the point for me. I lose myself intentionally so I can wander aimlessly, thinking, searching, wondering, feeling, solution-seeking, and planning.
At some point, I will reverentially place my hands on my heart in true Zen fashion, focus on whatever has been weighing me down and then fling my arms open to cast my troubles out into the lake. I keep my arms stretched out wide to open myself up to discovering new opportunities to stretch, grow, and evolve.
My lakeside meandering has become an indispensable self-care ritual. It affords me the freedom to disconnect from the busyness and strain that punctuates my life and enables me to become one with myself and nature.
The solitude fuels my soul and fills my ears with music, even when I’m not wearing air pods. My walk on the sand empowers me to think, feel and process my emotions, be silent, reflect, marvel, strategize, mourn, revel, and be grateful.
My eyes rejoice in the vision of both glistening sunlight that shimmers on the blue-green water and menacing clouds that lurk high above the horizon. Crashing waves create a rhythmic soundtrack as the relentless wind blows my hair helter-skelter.
I stop to admire the array of mismatched stones, iridescent shells, and 50-shades-of-gray- weathered driftwood that has washed ashore. I commune with nature and atmosphere, breathe deeply, settle my ever-suspect nervous system, quiet my chattering mind, steady my resolve, and lean in to the incremental yet deliberate arc of healing as it washes over me.
I greet neighbors who walk alone and those with a human partner or pooch. Yeah, dogs aren’t really allowed on this beach, but everyone looks the other way. What dog? I didn’t see any dogs.
Oh, how I miss my dogs, the last of which was my beautiful boxer, Jake. I still see him in my mind romping in the surf, running circles in the sand, and chasing away those damn geese.
These and a million other memories of days gone by prompt my eyes to alternately dance with joy and tear with sadness as I get lost in the past before returning to present day. But soon, I must move on to the future.
The day is young, and I have work to do, holding space for others as Hollywood Beach has for me. Those thoughts, feelings, and ideas that have been churning inside my head and heart must now be put into action. I’ve been safely tucked away deep inside myself for an hour. It’s time to re-engage with the real world.
Until tomorrow, when I can return to witness whatever weather conditions, thoughts, feelings, and notions are yet to be revealed.
So, goodbye for now, Hollywood Beach, until we resume our dutiful dalliance tomorrow and all the days to come.
