Watching Ocean Waves and Reflecting on Current Political Challenges ~ Is there a metaphor here?

“You must not lose faith in humanity; Humanity is like an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty.”  Gandhi

Although we are US and Canadian mid-Westerners, John and I have been drawn to oceans ever since we first met in graduate school in New Haven, Connecticut. We rented a small, run down but quaint cabin on the east coast beach for 2 years. Smitten by oceans shores we moved to Ketchikan, Alaska located on an island across from the airport island. We bought a house on the side of the hill with a spectacular ocean view of Tongass Narrows which is part of the Inside Passage, a popular cruise route. From our covered porch we watched huge tour boats drift in and out of Ketchikan bringing in waves of tourists for a few hours to see the totem poles and then receding leaving the town feeling empty but more peaceful and authentic. 

Ketchikan and our house on hillside

 A few years later we moved to Seattle, Washington where we found our current Puget Sound ocean view house. Here we have lived for the past 39 years. Yikes.. it seems like yesterday.  Still we are addicted to our ocean view surrounded by the Olympic mountains and speckled with sailing boats as well as enormous city-like tour boats, container barges and busy ferry boats buzzing back and forth to nearby islands.

Seattle view from our deck

I reflect on my ocean fascination as I sit on a red beach at the eastern end of the island of Maui, one of the most isolated and authentic communities in Hawaii. 

↙Hana has a population of 700 to 1,235 people depending on the tour book you read and is an undeveloped tropical paradise with unspoiled beauty. Driving here directly from the airport is a 3-hour hair-raising, winding drive with over 600 turns and small bridges through amazing rain forest and jungles of bamboo. I am reminded somewhat of Ketchikan Tongass forest except for the sunshine, palm trees, plunging water falls and mongoose animals scurrying across the road. 

We arrive at Travaasa Resort where John has reserved a sweet cabin without the modern conveniences of Nespresso machines, or TV, and a very slow internet. Instead our bed looks out floor to ceiling french doors facing an amazing ocean picture. 

What is different about this ocean view from our Seattle view is the intensity of the waves with their pounding sounds that appear dangerous and unpredictable.

We see a small red beach from our room balcony and walk down the hill to sit there at sunrise.  

We are entranced. John comments there is something primal about the experience.  I watch the stormy waves coming towards the ragged shore, building tension and tempers. I try to capture a picture from my I-phone at the time I predict the wave will crash but usually miss the moment. I regret not having my better camera. We notice that just before the wave crashes it curls and there is a brief moment of calm as the morning sun shines through the curl giving it a gorgeous aqua turquoise color. 

Then it crashes with thunder, dangerously and unpredictably in chaos as the black lava rock throws up the white frothy foam.

We are the only people on this rugged beach that is not the fine white calming sand one thinks about in Hawaii, rather it is a diverse mixture of rough black, red, brown and white rocks.  

I find myself ruminating about the current political situation and racial tensions and wonder how we will ride the political waves. Are we suspended in an ocean of chaos in order to bring out some new ideas and better collaboration? Can we find any peaceful order or a calm wave to ride? How can we navigate these challenging conditions to get to a stable shore?

In an effort to feel less stress, I have deliberately decided not to read any news. Nonetheless, I have been reading a remarkable book called Americanah by Chimaamanda Ngozi Adichie, a Nigerian author. The main character from Nigeria is a blogger who writes about race and the experience of new immigrants coming to United States to find belonging and a better life. After 13 years she returns to Nigeria.  As a Canadian I have been having fantasies about returning to my homeland. 

Later we go to Homeo Beach. This beach has fewer dangerous and sucking waves. John is not intimidated and swims joyfully but occasionally is drawn under and at one point I worry he has been sucked away. There are 3-4 surfers trying unsuccessfully to ride the waves, flipping over with their boards flying in the air.  Remarkably the boarders persist for hours without standing for more than a minute.  I am reminded of the importance of persistence and making mistakes in an effort to learn how to navigate.  It is not about standing, it is about interacting and understanding the waves.  Just in front of me are several children happily digging in the sand and fearlessly enjoying the waves.  

At a black sand beach there are sea caves and shoreline trails. The waves look daunting and I walk in the ocean rather than swim. Perhaps my standards are too high.




At another beach we see wind and kite surfers who have mastered how to use the wind to move effortlessly in a dance across the ocean.

I am reminded of the playful nature of oceans and its cyclic nature.  Perhaps politically we are in just another wave cycle that we must try to learn from and make more playful. Perhaps it doesn't have to be calmer and is not the fault of the waves rather one must try harder.   John asks me what I am blogging about and I tell him I am getting too corny.   But it seems that oceans have the capacity to make one feel humble and put life in some perspective.  Since oceans consist of 2/3 of the earth's surface surely they also have the power to connect us as well as calm us with their beauty.

Sunset from our deck in Hana

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