from San Jose (by Josh)

 

Bandon, Oregon; five incredible months of walking through the rain of the northeast and biking beside cornfields and over mountains had finally brought me from one shore of the US to the other. But the ecstasy induced by the ocean air was a joy I had not had the last time I gazed out at the Pacific Ocean.

 

 

Almost two and a half years ago, I was in the early part of my fourteen month deployment to Iraq. Midway through the tour, each soldier got a two week vacation back in the US. I knew I was not in the psychological state to jump back into the familiarity of being back home in Maryland with so many memories, family members and friends; it would be a tease not a rest. So I headed to the other side of the country and spent my mid-tour leave on the shores of the Pacific, my immediate family meeting me for part of that time.

 

I have always loved the ocean, but the rolling waves with their gentle mists and rumbles did not bring the calmness and timeless bliss it usually had. Instead, it had mockingly become a symbol to the desperation I had found myself in. As I sat on the beach, the laughing and lightheartedness I heard all around me made me feel like I did in high school: everybody carrying on with their (what I judged as) superficial lives, all my friends saying they believed in the war, everybody waving flags, but nothing much done about it. In my estimation, everyone was looking out into the ocean, talking about it, but instead of going in the water, they sat in ignorance on the beach.

 

 

And during my mid-tour leave, as I sat on the beach staring into the waves, they reminded me of the troubles I saw in the world and unable to sit and watch, I had rushed into the swelling waves to protect those who couldn’t or wouldn’t, finding my meaning in the face of the crashing tides. But this dash into the sea that had washed me ashore in Iraq had not united me to those I thought I was serving, they were still laughing on the beach, I was getting tossed in the rough waters, what was there to bond us? I lived wanting bigger and bigger waves, somehow I was going to find meaning, to gain triumph over the greatest challenges. But the waves got bigger and bigger, I stood my ground, but everything made less and less sense. Soon I grew tired with the small waves and the final one to stand up to was the big one: death.

And I literally did try to stand up to it. In Iraq, we guarded the factory we lived in with humvees at the entrances. A turret was mounted on the roof of the humvees and while most guys would duck down and climb out the door, I would climb out the turret, over the roof of the humvee. And there were times when I would stand for a few seconds on the roof, completely exposed in the middle of a combat zone, stretch my arms out and yell things like “I’m the king of the world”. I stopped taking cover when out on patrols. “You’re not being very tactical” my friends would tell me, “you’re going to get sniped”. “If death wants me, it’ll find me one way or another” I would reply, unconcerned. If I could laugh at death in it’s face, if the biggest wave was no match for me, in some vague way I would be stronger than nature. I didn’t know that came after the biggest wave, but I knew what came before it and I didn’t want to go back to shore, I didn’t want to hide from life. But what was life? Why was life? I had left the beach, swam through the water, splashed through the biggest waves, and held my ground and all that achieved was a spitefulness towards and isolation from those still on shore, a vast ocean with no end in sight, and on top of all that, I was afraid of what I was becoming.

That 2007 trip to the Pacific, staring at the ocean, only reinforced all these haunting ideas. It was a living analogy of how I viewed my life. Since that time though, I have seen more of the ocean. I saw that fighting and rolling around in it’s biggest waves was not the final lesson there was to learn and I learned what I was most terrified of: it wasn’t the biggest wave, but beyond it, the calm, tranquil, endless sea. Instead of believing the only way to live a meaningful life was to use every bit of energy to challenge existence, the bigger challenge was letting go, floating peacefully on my back in the open sea… too huge and limitless for me to understand, but I could understand enough to try to become one with it.

No more looking in spite at those on shore, no more needing to prove myself to others, no more needing to prove that existence is meaningless; it was all connected.

 

Laying eyes on the Pacific this time, I still saw the waves beating harshly against the rocks, but they did so as they had always done and I also saw the ocean, the rocks, the beach, the cliff as one. This time on the coast, I had a lengthy discussion with some Vietnam Veterans also reaching beyond the waves who had created a home for the handicap back in Vietnam. Another veteran talked with me about conflict resolution and unlike last time I was here, I knew that resolution was possible. A woman I met told me about her work for detainee rights and instead of cynicism, I was inspired (http://freedetainees.org/). I also stayed a night at the home of a homosexual couple and was–as opposed to most of my life–absent of judgement… the tranquil sea splashes us all.

——————————————————-

Guru, voodoo

 Save your sorcery
There is wisdom in nature
It’s floating in the sea

 

See the waves of life crashing
And I go splashing through
The hurricanes of existence
No insistence on dry land
You’ve got to face these waves too

 

I’m asking will you
Get up off the beach?
There is wisdom in nature
It’s floating in the sea

 

See the waves crashing harder
I go farther, alone
Shouting at the hurricane
Bring the rain, I’m not afraid
Why’s everyone heading home?

 

Chose to face life
Freedom so heavy
Isn’t there wisdom in nature?
Somewhere in the sea?

 

But as the sea roars
The wind whispers to me:
One day you’ll face
Your biggest wave
Then its just open sea
And in that uncertainty
The pulling of the under toe
The hardest move is letting go
–An ocean of peace–

There is wisdom in nature
It’s floating in the sea