The sand squished through my toes as I walked across the beach at Ocean Park. The waves crashed against the shore in a violent show of force.
Whenever I see natural power of this magnitude it makes me feel insignificant. Like I’m this small being watching a show put on by a higher power.
I walked right up to where the waves thrust up the shore. The water is cold and the sand begs you to reach down and pack a sand ball between your fingers. The sand seldom cooperates. It oozes through my hands, and I throw what I can towards the seagulls. Like a kid who can’t quite pack a snow ball fast enough for the passing bus.
There’s something about the beach that makes me feel alive. Could be the cool air. Or lack of cell or internet service.
I slowly unwound the string attached to the kite we brought along. Just the right amount of tension between the wind and string. It wasn’t long before the kite was just a dot in the sky. The kids took turns holding the kite’s handle, careful not to float away.
Flying a kite is a lot like raising kids. There’s tension and balance. Occasionally pulling hard in one direction can keep your kite off the ground, but you don’t want to do it often. With every foot of string you feed the kite you also relinquish a measure of control, yet there’s a sense of accomplishment when the kite is high into the sky and the spool is empty.
Kim took the above picture of me managing to pilot the kite without nose diving it into the ocean. I don’t believe your mind can feel stress while the rest of you flies a kite. Give it a try.