Every year since the New Year’s Day I was 17, I have touched my feet to the sand of a beach. I landed at various beaches on the California coast, no matter the weather, no matter the company. It is a required ritual.
There are rules for this beach excursion.
1) I MUST touch the water. It can be with my hand. It should be with my toes. One year, as I fell while running toward the surf, it was with my face. This was not pretty, and I don’t recommend it, but it counted, and as I sulked back to my car for a towel that year, I knew I would not have to go near the surf again right away, rule one accomplished.
2) I MUST make a wish. This is not a New Year’s Day rule; this is a beach rule, but since I am at the beach, I have to do it today, too. I will write my wish in the sand with my finger, or an old piece of driftwood, or a baseball bat I happen to be carrying (story for another time), close enough to the surf that within a few waves, the written message will be washed out with the tide. I will watch until this happens, so I practice patience. I never waste my wish on something I can’t have, like immediate world peace, or a million dollars from the sky. Those will be flat-out ignored by the universe, and since I only get one wish per beach visit with no take-backs, I should put them to good use.
I do wish for something outside of myself that I need a little help with. The Universe listens to those. A little help with my monthly expenses (in whatever form that it comes in), a man who is nice to me (also, in whatever form it comes in), satisfaction at work (whatever form, can you see the theme?) are all good things to ask for. Peace in my life, happiness for my kids, a bikini that makes my tits and ass look good, are all good choices. As an aside, since I get one of these wishes EVERY time I go to the beach, I try to make a habit of it. Go on my way home from work every Thursday, or on the full moon, or on the slack tide. Just do it. And I don’t get to think that driving to the beach and sitting in my car counts. I mean, watching the sunset is nice and all, but I need to make a wish in the sand. And I don’t go all Scrooge and not walk the extra 25 feet because I am lazy.
3) On New Year’s Day I MUST bring something along with me that I need to part with, or something that symbolizes something I need to part with. I will be throwing it into the water, and not getting it back, so I need to be realistic. This can be something easy to get rid of, like a love letter from a guy who broke my heart in April but I haven’t been able to burn, ripped into tiny pieces. Or, it can be something difficult to get rid of, like a wedding cake topper (also a story for another time). If symbolically I just need to transfer my thoughts to a piece of paper (or a rock) so I can throw it in and have it actually go away with the surf (while not having people look at me like I am crazy to throw “X” in) (like a wedding cake top), without some other unfortunate soul finding it, that works, too. I would NOT throw in my ex’s grandmother’s engagement ring. I would sell that shit. But a picture of the ring, taken as I box it up to send to the buyer, is perfect.
I think creatively here. I have thrown in a penny from a particular year to represent getting rid of financial dependence. I have thrown in a piece of tissue paper that represented frailty (Yeah, dumping that frail shit is fine!). One year, I threw in a bisque ceramic lovebirds-sitting-on-a-heart figurine that looked remarkable like something you would see at a wedding. (Cliff over China Cove. It arced perfectly. It sorta bounced on the rocks twice before shattering and hitting the crashing surf. The sound it made was musical, boing, boing, ching-crash, sploosh. It was awesome!) I don’t think I need to tell you what that represented.
This year I threw in a sheet metal screw that had been sticking out of my dining room ceiling since I purchased the house three years ago. I am thinking it represented procrastination and moving towards having my house (and my life) in a not-so-fixer-up state.
4) I MUST go. No excuses. Raining? Bring an umbrella or a trash bag. (I keep this in my car, just in case) Windy? I have seen Wizard of Oz. And it will NEVER get that bad in California. And I am not afraid of houses or red shoes. Boyfriend wants to watch football? Perfect, I am probably throwing in one of his torn t-shirts or crap DVDs anyway. Living a little ways from the beach? I have 24 hours here, start driving. I went to the beach one year when they actually had a high-surf advisory and the beach was “closed”, having driven three hours from Sacramento. So, um, yeah, whatever. Go. If I can take my 13-day old newborn to the beach in a Moby, I figure any other time should be cake.
I have taken my kids with me since they were born. They have touched the sand and, since now old enough to understand their eclectic mom’s ritual, have also thrown in items and made wishes. My son, remembering being sick on candy right before Christmas, threw in peppermint TicTacs, hoping for no illness this year. My daughter, ever the indecisive, could not pick something and finally settled for a rock, and made a wish to be better at making decisions.
I like that they get this ritual, and have decided to join me, because this year I actually gave them the opt-out option. I also like that I have a ritual at all that I have never skipped as an adult, because sometimes, in my head, it made all the difference in setting my tone for the year.
Remember the screw and the procrastination wish? That I posted this in one day might mean it is working already.
