What to Do When You Can’t Live Near a Beach

Going for a beach walk first thing in the morning. The dog is happy, I’m happy, and we’re both mentally set up for the day.” 

— Chris Hunter, Motorcyclist, Writer, and native New Zealander on Huckberry.com

But Chris, what if I’m not close to a beach? Will my dog stop loving me and is depression inevitable?

So, how would you like to live near a beach? Would you settle for living close to the coast? Or is a beach on a lake still better than just a plain old coastline?

Nearly 40 percent of Americans live close to the coast.

Who knew?

I was surprised when I first read this stat in the Washington Post a few years back. And I’m still trying to reconcile that little factoid because most people I know don’t live near a coast, and even fewer live near a beach.

Of course, “close” is relative. Exactly how close is close?

And living close to the coast isn’t the same as close to a beach. I think it’s safe to say close to a beach wins hands down over close to a coast anytime.

To be fair, The Post did not equate beaches to coastlines. I’m doing that. It’s just when I hear coastline, I usually think beaches first… then come the rocky sort.

The other 60 percent will usually need to call on imaginary waterfronts.

So, where’s your beach? Your happy (near water) place? Do you have a special one where you can mentally visit on demand?

Water and especially beaches can have a certain therapeutic effect to cure most of our mental stressings… if we let them. They can work even when they’re conceived in our mind’s eye.

There’s something about water, though. Water has healing power. Babbling brooks, mountain streams, rushing rivers, and of course the best one of all—the ocean surf.

Wherever you are, you can take a mental journey wherever your heart desires to go. All it takes is a little imagination and the willingness to let go.

Does all this sound strange coming from a guy who chose to live in the desert?

Although, I’d like to point out, we do have hot springs!

But hey, like the song says, “The ocean is a desert with its life underground” (from ‘A Horse With No Name’ performed by America).

Writer Dewey Bunnell also says he remembered his childhood travels through the Arizona and New Mexico desert when his family lived at Vandenberg Air Force Base. Bunnell has explained that “A Horse with No Name” was ‘a metaphor for a vehicle to get away from life’s confusion into a quiet, peaceful place.’”

—from Wikipedia

Kind of the same thing, right?

I experienced the solitude and healing power of the surf for the first time during one of the most stressful times early in my corporate career. 

I remember one business trip to the Gulf side of Florida to visit a major supplier. Our meeting had ended early giving us a few hours to burn before heading to the airport. What better way to spend those hours than heading to the water for a walk on the beach?

We must have been quite the sight, three guys in suits, pantlegs rolled up to our knees, strolling through the surf in the afternoon sun.

I was in my late twenties and was stressed to the max, pegging my meter at about eleven on a scale of ten. The pressure was getting the best of me back then.

Safe to say I was about to blow a head gasket.

That day, that walk on the beach cured my worries. Up and back, I don’t remember how many times, barefoot in the surf. It healed me if only for a while. I didn’t even mind that I stepped on a big, sticky glob of sea tar that was lurking under the surf… now permanently stuck to the bottom of one foot

After my foray along the seaside, my biggest remaining concern in the whole world was how not to ruin my shoes with sea tar on my feet. My socks must be sacrificed.

Funny thing, I started this post last fall, just twenty-one days before the winter solstice. I must have been thinking of walking on a beach back then. And now it seems weird that I’m just now finishing it four days before the spring equinox.

It doesn’t really matter though since we can travel to a beach any time of year. In the two weeks prior, we had been to Denver, across Kansas twice, quickly through the Oklahoma panhandle, and close enough to Texas to see it as we passed by. That’s about 1,700 miles that’s nowhere near an ocean, let alone a beach.

Of course, after that much traveling on dry land, some beach somewhere sure would have been welcome.

I do love the surf across my toes. How about you?

Water can heal the soul. Even when you’re landlocked, if you can’t get to a beach or coastline, remember to call on your imaginary waterfront in times of need.

It doesn’t hurt to have good friends among the 40% either! Could be time to invite yourself for a visit.

You’ve got this. Be untucked.

p.s. It’s snowing outside. No joke. Where’s that beach?

p.p.s. Know someone who might like this post? Maybe forward it or share it on your favorite social media platform. Thanks… 

Copyright © 2023 Jeff Meister – All Rights Reserved – Written by a human