This is the Space | A2
Today, I rollerbladed to the beach.
What?
Let’s rewind.
Groggy morning scramble. Loosely prepping for job interview. Face smacking to look alive. Pump up music to boost energy. Hopping on zoom and illuminating into a ‘prospect’ of sorts for corporate recruiters. Pitter patter. “We’ll be in touch, have a good one.”
Phew.
I can breathe. It’s complete.
I can more than breathe, I freaking nailed that.
I’m going to ride this post-interview high and hop on my blades.
Velcro pads. Elbows, knees, wrists. Socks on. Feet sliding into blades. Left buckle, tightened. Right buckle, really tightened. Mask on. Headphones inserted into ears. Helmet snapped secure.
Phone. Spotify. “Hypnotized” by Purple Disco Machine. Play.
Off. Up to cruising speed. One direction, beachward.
Narrow bike lane. I’ll take the sidewalk. Dancing along cracks and uprooted trees. Timing street lights because I know how to stop quickly? I don’t.
Music pumping. Ears to head to phalanges. Swerving with the beat.
Hello beach. It’s great to see you. Head to the pier. Why not?
Boardwalk? Too sketched by the people. I’ll take the empty parking lots alongside the boardwalk.
Into the wind. Barely moving. Worth it. Give me a lil resistance. The ride back is going to be a CRUISE. Legs burning. Feeling spicy. Sun rippling on the water. This is good.
Do I stop? This is a nice view. I wouldn’t mind a little sit down.
A little further.
Alright now is good.
Park the operation. Sat on curb in lot. Facing the pier. Music still going. Ringing in my ears, a painful ringing of too much noise.
Helmet unbuckled. Softly placed on pavement. Like a bowl on a fine dining room table.
Ripped the headphones out of my ears. Thattttt is better. Tossed them in my helmet bowl.
I need something. My brain needs something. Needs a ping. Needs inputs. Anyone text me? Anyone email me?
Oblivious to the view.
I had seen it a billion times before, what is to see here. I mean cmon. Nothing new.
Hardly able to look at it. To really look at it. To really see it. Oblivious to this reality
Body filled with helpless and sickening feeling.
Do I just try to find something to fill me, to I go chase it? I need to get away, I need to see a new view. What’s next? How can I get to this next craving filling? Where is it?
No.
Crisscrossed my rollerblade-extensioned legs.
Just closed my eyes.
Closed my eyes and just breathed.
Breathing in the fresh air of my surroundings and breathing out my cravings for ‘more.’
Mind racing.
NASCAR racing.
Going real fast.
Was going real fast.
Began to slow.
As if softly turning down the volume on time.
It got really slow.
It got really quiet.
My mind started to settle.
5 minutes.
Perhaps 10.
Maybe 15.
Eyes reopened.
To pure novelty.
To ease.
To peace.
Everything fascinated. Filled with gratitude. With curiosity.
Colors coming into focus.
The trees, the shadows, the wind.
Did the setting change?
No.
Did my mind?
Yes.
Senses kicked in. Thinking of each. Riding these vehicles into space immersion.
Touch: wind on my face, hands on my legs, feet in my blades touching the pavement
Smell: a slight smell of my own breath in my mask mixed with the crisp salty ocean breeze
Taste: a bit of what I had eaten before I began blading. What a gift to be able to have a lingering taste. To have a reminder that I was able to eat.
Sound: trees rustling their palms, cars in the parking lot crackling the rocks on the road, cars zooming on the nearby highway. Instead of trying to cancel it out, by letting it in and letting it be, I felt extremely at ease. To hear the sound and smile because it existed.
Sight: shadows creating beautiful fixtures on the ground. People walking alongside one another and their dog, long standing trees, so thin yet so tall and sturdy, “their roots must be so magnificent!”
Mind: clouded headspace transferred to clear curiosity
I allowed. I allowed my surroundings fill me. I became aware of the space.
No longer searching beyond the space. No longer yearning for a different location or distant dream.
I let myself in the space. I did not run from it. And it let me in.
Felt as if I could’ve sat there for days. Not because I love that location, but because I let that space and location love me, I became available to it.
I decided to take a few photos. I decided to write a bit in this moment. Here is what I jotted down:
Thank you for this moment
Thank you for this space
It is spectacular.
All you need to do is look
To discover
To sense
To uncover
It is spectacular.
Thank you.
Take a step back
Unplug the headphones
Let them rest outside your ear
Close your eyes
Breathe
Just breathe
All of it in
All of it out
Reopen eyes to newness
To novelty
To all of your space
To all of its splendor
Rejoice!
Is this the place?
Is this the place?
Is this the place?
No.
But it is the space.
That gives effortlessly
That teaches without words
That entertains without screens
That satisfies
Simply by being.
This is the space.
The rustle of the trees
Noticing now after
15 minutes
Notepad on my knees
The more you let
The more you learn
Be
For the space is all one can ever need.
This is the space
Then, hunger set in. And I CRUISED back home.
With eyes of appreciation.
Upon arrival and insertion into the indoors, I wrote:
The peace of the outdoors
The peace
All of the stressors of the indoor
Mouse malfunctions
Loud pinging noises
Frustration
Frustration
Frustration
The outdoors give all that is needed and more
Patience
Peace
Calm
Love
Appreciation
So,
I rollerbladed to the beach today.
What a beautiful opportunity I have been given
What a beautiful privilege
What a beautiful sentence
Such a gift.
And I rollerbladed right into a profound realization.
The space I am in. While it is always there, it is not always appreciated. I do not always allow it be fill my awareness. I do not always open myself to it. I do not always allow it to fill me. I do not always stay available to it.
I look elsewhere.
When really, all I need to do.
Is reopen my eyes.
Easier said than done.
But possible.
And beautiful.
Is contentment not a destination, but an awareness and appreciation of where you are right now?
Perhaps.
This is the space.
Did I end up getting the job? No.
Who cares.
I rollerbladed.
I got a new set of eyes.
This is the space.