My husband and I had a friendly discussion about moving to be closer to work - we will both be working in the same area this summer and we don't want to live our lives in the car! This friendly discussion triggered a phone call to our current housing organization, which turned into a cascade of events. We got the clearance to move, had 60 days to vacate the premises, started meeting with realtors, found the apartment we wanted, started move-in procedures, and by the end of April we were settled! We've been in the new house for 3 weeks now and it has been absolutely wonderful.
We live literally across the street from the bay, so it feels like we're on vacation every single day with a gorgeous sunset over the water every evening. We sit outside on the balcony as often as possible - sipping morning coffee, playing with our son, grilling dinner, having a glass of wine... It was the best decision we've made since coming to Okinawa!
I have been wondering why the ocean is so freeing. Why does it feel like you could stare out at the water for hours? We can't stare at anything else for hours unless it's a screen of some sort, so why does the ocean draw us in the way it does?
My theories: 1) it's a subconscious connection to the womb, 2) it's vast, open, and minimalistic. I'll have to research my theories and come back with a more scholarly post, but we're going a mile-a-minute in our household. Let me sum up my thoughts this way:
The Womb Theory
The fetus is protected by a giant sac of amniotic fluid during gestation, meaning the unborn baby floats around for the first few months (at least until it becomes too cramped to move very far!) The amniotic fluid also blocks out much of the external noise of the world, which is why newborns (and many adults) like using white noise machines to sleep better. The hypnotic rhythm of mom walking around often rocks the fetus into a trance, which is why we rock babies to sleep after they're born. Mom's breathing and heartbeat also provides a metronomic effect on the fetus, lulling it into a peaceful slumber.
Now let's compare the above to the ocean: I wish I could read these sentences aloud and let my readers close their eyes to imagine it all, but you will have to read it... so instead, read each sentence on its own and pause for a second to close your eyes and imagine the scene.
Rhythmic, rocking waves slowly push their way onto the sand embankment and slowly pull away.
The rumble of the next wave begins, cascading water forward onto the sandy shore once more.
As you walk to knee-depth in the waves, you feel the rush of the water pulling against your body as the waves pull back out to the ocean.
Your body is submerged to waist-depth and you begin to float, rocking forward and back with each passing wave.
Your limbs float aimlessly, suspended in the water at your sides.
A seagull on the water adjacent to you slowly bobs up and down, up and down, as it perches weightlessly on the tops of the rolling waves.
You lay back on the water, floating at the top. Your ears are submerged, so the external noise is blocked out. The only noise you hear is your own breathing.
How do you feel right now? Do you feel a sense of calm rejuvenation? I'm pretty sure if I did more in-depth research on this topic, I'd find something to verify my womb theory.
I'll be more regular with my posts as soon as I get settled in my job again. Thanks for keeping up with me during my hiatus!
Have a great, calm weekend :) Bev