I recently took a business trip to Los Angeles with two co-workers. We were fortunate to have an extra couple of days for leisure after our work was done. They wanted to see all the normal touristy things during the day and wound up at Santa Monica Pier at the end of the day.
Over many years of travelling I have developed a few rituals, including one with the sun setting over the ocean. For years this ritual has retained its power and awe since it has never become routine. It is a singular event to witness an ocean sunset. The sun appears many times its normal size as it approaches the horizon and then suddenly disappears. There is nothing subtle or gradual in that last moment.
It is this unwavering decisiveness of the sunset juxtaposed against the vast openness of the ocean that makes for a compelling ritualized reflection on the state of my life.
Normally I would stroll along the beach waiting for the transition to occur. In that instant transition from light to dark I look inward to see who I am at that precise moment. No apologies. No excuses. No shyness. Just an unvarnished look at myself in this moment of creation.
In the moments leading up to the singular event my thoughts and emotions can’t help but work overtime trying to control and negotiate a spin on who I am. However, upon the absoluteness of an ocean sunset time stands still as does my inner dialog. It often becomes a moment of clarity between me and my maker.
I usually get quite excited about my little ritual; but not this time. I have been in a horrible place emotionally, spiritually, and physically after facing a decade-long betrayal. I simply wanted to bypass the ritual and go back to the hotel so that I could spend full-time feeling sorry for myself. But the power of this ritual is that it is indeed a ritual.
A few minutes before sunset I casually wandered off from my friends and sat on a wooden bench by a few dozen strangers. I tried to feel the majesty of the ocean but instead I became intrigued by the street musicians. While listening to love songs I realized that I am surrounded by happy couples. Great. Now the ritual is about feeling abandoned, unlovable, and ultimately alone. It became impossible to continue with this charade.
Then power of the ritual started to occur as the vastness of the ocean became compelling. My thoughts quickly became focused on the billions of creatures living in the sea, and peoples from all walks of life living in the here and now. It is this humbleness that puts my life in context while simultaneously gaining perspective in looking up at the stars. As the sun transitioned I started to anticipate that warm feeling of contentment which usually happens as the ritual reveals that I am OK just as I am.
As the sun began its plunge it felt like all these happy people are here for the seemingly singular and cruel purpose of illustrating my aloneness. In that moment of clarity, I became bitter and resentful.
My attitude and I walked out on this contrived ritual and slithered toward the beach to be alone. I must have looked quite pathetic as I crossed paths with my friends. I went to the edge of the water and just sat down. I took off my sandals and fiddled with the sand trying to emulate a person enjoying vacation. I did notice that my friends discretely avoided my presence once they caught up to me.
I figured that I could pull myself together in a few minutes and then meet up with them back at the car. It seemed fitting that the water was icy cold so I didn’t bother to retreat from the advancing tide. I picked up on my previous thoughts of being alone in the world.
I looked up and saw the ocean and stars from a different perspective. I was so enamored with my own pity that I didn’t even notice the ritual sunset. I continued my thoughts of the magnitude of the creation that is alive out there…in the here and now. My mind usually begins to multiply this vastness by an eternal timeline as I look out beyond the stars. It is quite humbling to be just one out of many billions. Now multiply those billions by generations that span eons of time. Certainly puts my struggles, triumphs and ego in perspective. Of course tonight the feeling of humility is lost since my ego is expecting all of creation to be feeling sorry for me. And they clearly don’t. What I am feeling now just doesn’t matter.
Now I feel like I have sabotaged my own sacred ocean sunset ritual.
I look down as I push sand around to disconnect from this jaded reality. I feel numb and lightly close my eyes hoping that it will all go away.
Sometime later a surfer dude walks by and jokingly says that I should get out of the water. Sitting up I realize that the rising tide is now crashing waves over my legs. Completely soaked I stood up and brushed the sand off myself as I walked toward the car. I noticed more than a few people looking at me as I continued to pull myself together. Strange. They all seemed inconsequential. Not good. Not bad. They just were. I felt a profound sense of oneness and purpose as time literally stood still. No inner dialog. No thoughts of what happened or would happen next. Everything was just OK.
I scrambled for some levity when I got into the car with my friends, but this tranquil feeling had me transfixed and speechless for at least half the trip back to the hotel. As the roads transitioned from beach trails to massive freeways, I began rationalizing what had just happened. These ideas got shot down before I could even finish them. I didn’t need to analyze anything! It was so obvious that a child could figure it out.
Jesus just washed my feet.
A very special thanks to Andrew Sonnek who captured the above image unknown to me at the time. Please treat yourself by visiting www.afsonnek.com.