When I turned 16 - and until the week I moved to New York, I did what I though (and still think) most people do in order to remove stress. I headed to the beach - especially at night.
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And by "headed to the beach" I mean - I drove down the 405 to the 10 West (when I was at ULCA) or out the 10 West past the 405 - when I got older.
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| The 405 (diagonal) and The 10 (horizontal) in West LA |
From the 10 / 405 interchange it is less than 6 miles to the beach. And the 6 or 7 west bound lanes peel off one or two at a time. A couple leave at Bundy, one at Centennial one at 26th and one at Lincoln, then the final 3 merge into 2 lanes westbound and you go into a curved tunnel. And - suddenly, magically, you are shot from the tunnel onto the Pacific Coast Highway like you just won the world's biggest game of pinball.
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| The 10 tunnel pops out to Pacific Coast Highway PCH |
The first time you do it you are amazed. The second time, you find it a little anti-climatic. But then, THEN, it is a process. As the lanes peal off, like an orange (which grows in the weather there - try growing citrus in this place), I digress... As the lanes peal off you can feel your stress get lighter. You feel your hurt and worry and anxiousness peal away a little at a time.
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Now, I went out PCH past the California incline and where Sunset Blvd. hits the water (before Sunset hits the water, it is Santa Monica, but right there, after Sunset - for a few miles - it is the city of Angels again for a little while. And like natures valet, there is this turn when you can park on the soft shoulder.
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| Where you sit and listen to the Ocean (viewed during the day) |
And at night you climb down about 4 boulders. And then, depending on the tide, there are 2 boulder to the water or to a tiny strip of sand. And you sit and sit and sit. And your cares melt away like some new age meditation chant that you don't even have to say. Think of it as plugging in your iPhone, the green light buzzes for a second, then energy just flows.
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From that spot on the rocks, the road is just a few feet away, but all you hear is the sound of the surf. Because the Pacific is loud and demands attention. No offense, but the Atlantic is about as attention demanding as - well I can't even think of anything, because the Atlantic makes no impression what-so-ever. The one place it comes mildly close to the Pacific is in Maine, and they made that a National Park. The Pacific is like that from Washington to Mexico.
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And you feel the surf seep into your psyche. And you look down south, and you see the lights of LA, Santa Monica, Venice, Playa Del Ray, Hermosa Beach, Manhattan Beach and Redondo Beach twinkle and fade in the distance. If you look East (it's at a curve in the Highway), there is the faint glow of Malibu just over the headland. And for a moment - A MOMENT all is right with the world.
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| How can this not energize you |
Those moments sometimes happen here in New York, but the are serendipitous. You stumble upon them or you don't. You wake up at 2AM with anxiety or worry or just pent up energy you have to use and your screwed. New York doesn't give a shit about how you feel. You know what happens when you try to wander New York to find your "special place" - if you are lucky enought to miss stepping in the vomit or pee, somebody calls you a motherfucker because, well just because that is the semi-official hello of the city. Often all three things happen at once..
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You wake up the same way at 2AM anywhere from the South Bay to the Valley to Downtown LA and the God of the Pacific says, "You need a shoulder to lean on kid? Come on here and get a hug."
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And good grief I want a hug today.
