Walking along the seashore to Revere, I was gazing at the water swashing up the beach, and then I realized, nothing really ever changes at the seashore – it is the same rhythmic splashing sound, the same white sparkling whirlpools, and the same plashy bursting bubbles. Water runs up on the beach, and then fades almost as if it is washed away. Seashore seems glamorous but is dreary and lonely.
I start to think about the stories I read in Lighthousekeeping: Lighthouse keepers live by the seashore for years or even decades to care for the lighthouse. They opt for a monotonic life and spend years after years to keep one simple promise alive, to tend the light so that no ship coming ashore will get lost and people can find their way home. To keepers, the vast loneliness from the engulfing sea does not swallow them but instead, applies a soft touch that is sensuous, enfolding their lives in its close embrace.
I have always been afraid of being swallowed in the sea, but maybe now it’s time to change.