My Place of Peace and Healing

 

Image © 2020 by Ralph F. Couey

"Be Still.

Be Quiet.

Just...Be."

--Unknown

Copyright © 2020

by Ralph F. Couey

I think for many of us, when life just gets too much, there is a place; a quiet place, of peace and beauty to which we can retreat and for a precious space of time, shut the world out.  We all need such a place, and such a time, especially in a time when angst seems to consume the world around us.  It is necessary to take time to put space between us and the rest of the world because the constant assault of negativity takes a toll on our minds, our emotions, and our spirit.  This place of refuge will be different for each person. I'd like to tell you a bit about mine.

On O'ahu, there are a lot of beaches.  Some, like Waikiki, Ala Moana, and Sunset are well known.  But there are others that aren't as well known, or populated.  On the north shore is a stretch of state beach park named for the nearby town, Hale'iwa.  I'm told that the translation means "House of the Frigate Bird."  It is a short stretch of beach between the road and the water, mainly because in 1964 when the state built Magic Island adjacent to Ala Moana beach, they took a lot of sand from the north shore beaches.  As a result, not only is it a narrow beach, but just a few feet into the water, rocks from an ancient lava flow cover the shallow sea floor, making it kinda iffy for swimming.  At one time, this was a wonderful beach, plenty of sand, and no rocks. Not now.

Anyway, it is an area of some historical note.  Just a bit up the coast is an abandoned airfield from which two pilots, Lieutenants Welch and Taylor, took to the air on December 7, 1941 and were two of the very few pilots who scored aerial victories against the Japanese Navy that day.  I've been there, not much to it, just a lonely strip of asphalt surrounded by trees.  

Hale'iwa is a place where Cheryl and I used to go to watch the sunset.  Not many people go there, so its always quiet and peaceful.  And in Hawai'i, there's never a bad sunset.

A couple of weeks ago, I went up that way for some peace and quiet on my day off.  It was very hot, even with the trade winds, so rather than plant myself in the sun, I walked further up the coast.  I found a stretch where some pine trees provided some shade where I could be comfortable.  I've been back there at least once per week since.  

First of all, its a very quiet place.  A thick line of tropical vegetation screens out traffic noise from the highway, and because the lava is multitudinous, most families don't go there.  The shade is pleasant, but I still get the benefit of the winds.  And as the air passes among the pine needles, that wonderfully peaceful sighing fills the air.  In front of me, the surf washes ashore, small waves, just making the right amount of crash and hiss.  Lifting my eyes, I can see out to the point of land that is Ka'ena Point off to the left, and in front, the endless reaches of the Pacific.  The water is various shades of blue, highlighted by the occasional whitecap.  In that place, I can empty my mind, forget about everything else, and just exist.  

Image © 2020 by Ralph F. Couey

Quite often, in the shallows, I will see fins and a head break the surface of the water, as five or six sea turtles swim languidly amongst the rocks.  I know they are here because its quiet, and I am here for the same reason, so in our mutual silence, there is a bit of a connection I think.  Doves and egrets also visit here, sometimes looking at me in a startled way, as if to ask what I was doing there.  Sometimes, I take a notebook and pen, for I've found that this place of peace and solitude is a fine place for inspiration.  During the summer, this is the perfect place to watch the sun set.  As the sun slides towards the horizon, the sky begins to darken from blue to various shades of purple.  The clouds catch the sunlight from ever differing angles, and go from white to dark and tipped in gold.  Even when the sun is gone, the sky remains light for a surprising amount of time.  It is my favorite time of day. 

As September turns to October, our star's meandering about the horizon takes it beyond the Ka'ena headland, and instead of sinking into the sea, the sun slides behind the mountain.  

Very occasionally, a family will find themselves wandering up the shoreline, and I'm happy to point out my companions the turtles to the children.  Being a Grandfather, I'm never tired of a child's gleeful laugh.  Eventually, they move on, always thankful for the experience.  

I can't stay here as long as I like, because I have a full life, and responsibilities to attend to.  But I'm thankful for the short time I can spend here, immersed in beauty and peace, because these healing hours give me the strength and energy to once again face life.

Still, leaving this place is hard.  I get up, fold up the beach chair, and return my belongings to the backpack.  After finally getting everything ready to go, I take a few more moments to take one last look; to imprint this time, and this place on my soul.  Then regretfully, but purposefully, I put the solace behind me.

If you don't have such a place, find one.  If you don't have the time, make it.  Trust me.  Your soul will thank you.

Image © 2020 by Ralph F. Couey