A day at the beach brings out our inner child

Beach season.  Hot afternoons, warm evenings and cool, refreshing water.  Since my family and I moved to Grand Coulee last winter, I had been enticed by the promise of lazy, warm days on the beach.  Almost every afternoon since those promised warm days have arrived my daughter and I load on the sunscreen and head to the beach for some fun in the sun.  As the water in Lake Roosevelt rose and pushed the beachgoers into a small crescent of shore, people watching became one of my most interesting summer activities. 

I found as the summer season progressed that people seem to undergo a transformation when they get to the beach.  Except for young children, people of all ages seem to shed some level of conformity when their feet hit the sand.  It seemed to me that the toddlers and younger children were the only ones acting predictably: up to their necks in sand and inquisitively exploring their surroundings.  I saw teenagers building sandcastles and parents playing with their children.  Grown men and women were swaying joyfully on the swings.  We bare our imperfect bodies in bathing suits that in any other setting would be considered scandalously inappropriate.  It was almost as if everyone was so far out of their normal, everyday element that predictable behaviors didn’t apply.

It was the teenagers who first caught my eye.  Rarely do you see a child past the age of 12 simply playing.  Is it the absence of other entertainments that allow them to enjoy the things they used to as younger children?  Combating boredom is an effortless thing these days.  There are cell phones, social networking sites, email, computer games, video games and possibly, if you’re lucky, a book or a school sport.  In the absence of these possibilities, it seems as if the imagination rose from the ashes, and before you know it, there they were: conducting a sand castle competition, swimming out to the dock and swinging on the swings.

As I watched the rest of us join ranks with the young children, it made me wonder what it is about the beach that brings out the child in all of us.  If we were all half as active as we are at the beach, America wouldn’t have such an obesity problem.  If we interacted with our children as much on a daily basis as we do at the beach, perhaps there wouldn’t be as many problems in our schools.  It’s almost as if a day at the beach grants us the same freedom as a vacation does.  On vacation some of our everyday comforts are stripped away, leaving us the time and attention to focus on activities that are simply for pleasure.

I think being at the beach reminds us on a very deep level of being one of those sand covered kids we see at the beach today.  It reminds us that simply getting dirty and playing, then jumping in the cold water to rinse off is a rush of simple joy that is deeply satisfying. 

For much of my childhood I lived in a beach town.  My summer afternoons and weekends were spent in the sand and the sun playing with my parents and little friends I would meet down by the water and then forget the next day.  I grew up hearing stories about my brother and I purposefully throwing our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the sand, picking them up and eating them merrily.  This summer, I watch my daughter eating a sandy nectarine and know that if we were at home and she ate something that dirty, I would be appalled.  But at the beach, there’s much that we do outside of our comfort zone and regular day activities.  And you know, I think I like it.

Previously published in "The Star," Grand Coulee, Washington. August 24, 2011

Summer softball satisfies

Like many Americans, summer, for me, is synonymous with baseball.  All my life I’ve been a baseball fan.  Some of my brightest memories as a child are sitting in the stands with my dad at Dodger Stadium.  My brother and I would drag along our mitts with the full expectation that if a foul ball came our way, by golly, we were going to catch it.  We would order a legendary foot-long Dodger dog and let my dad finish most of it as we’d already moved on to the Cracker Jacks and peanuts.  At that age it was mostly about the food and spending a fun night under the bright lights with my dad, but when I think about those magical nights now I know a lifelong love was forming. 

When I moved to Grand Coulee and heard about a summer softball league, I was eager to play.  There is something wholesome and carefree about playing baseball on a hot summer night.  It also takes some guts.  Not everyone played sports in high school and not everyone is blessed with superior hand-eye coordination.  I played sports in high school, but unfortunately the superior hand-eye coordination skipped me over.  One of my biggest lessons of the summer was that just because you love something, doesn’t mean you know how to do it.  Putting theory into practice is a difficult thing.

This year the Grand Coulee summer softball league had over 180 players in the league.  I roundly applaud all teams and all players.  It’s not always an easy thing to make room in a busy schedule to get outside simply for the fun of it.  There are commitments to juggle, mitts to find, injuries to nurse, kids to take care of, lawns to mow and countless other justifications.  Yet still people came out every week to play with their team to have fun, get some exercise, meet new people and possibly win a game or two. 

Based on what I saw on the field this summer, I would say most teams landed somewhere in between “just out to have fun” and “out to win,” but I think all teams had the intention of doing both.  As an athlete most of my life, I’ve always had a healthy competitive spirit.  In fact, I think most people do; everyone likes to win.  With that in mind, was it possible to simply “have fun” playing softball?  If you are competitive, even in the slightest degree, is it possible to have fun if you are losing?   At what point does competitive spirit become a disadvantage to having fun?

I’ve always believed that competitive spirit is a great attribute to have.  It can inspire you to do better than you thought you could, motivate you to push harder and encourage you to continue when you thought you were through.  Perhaps, as with many things, there is simply some give and take.  For the sake of something that is strictly for fun, competitive spirit is great as long as it allows you to be a good sport, lose gracefully, and still enjoy your night. 

I also fervently hope that there is a way to be competitive without seriously injuring ourselves.  This season in the Grand Coulee softball league there were many minor and some major injuries.  Is it necessary to slide into base when we are just out here to have fun?  Even the best slides will probably result in a scrape and some bruising.  And occasionally, a bone is broken. 

It may be the end of the softball season but it doesn’t necessarily mean it has to be the end of getting outside and playing in the sun with our friends and neighbors.  And who knows, maybe that carefully cultivated competitive spirit will come in handy again next year.

Previously published in "The Star," Grand Coulee, Washington. August 10, 2011

Early sunrise adds new surprise

About a month or two before midsummer, when each morning brought the sun earlier and earlier to my bedroom window, I started getting up and going running. As a new resident of the area, I was warned about how early the sun would rise and that black-out shades were a must. The black-out shades went up, but the sun still found ways to slip through the cracks and land squarely on my eyelids. One morning I decided to just get up, put on my running shoes and head out the door. I’m up anyway, I thought; I might as well use the time wisely.

To be fair, this isn’t a new habit I just picked up. I was a rower in college in New England and got up well before the sun most days. Probably because of my time on the Connecticut River, or perhaps in spite of it, I find exercising with the dawn to be immensely satisfying. More often than not, you have the streets, or the river, or even the gym to yourself. The workout seems somehow easier, the body still asleep, the mind not fully awake.

As my feet hit the pavement on my first early morning run in Grand Coulee, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had been living here for months, but that morning everything looked different. The cliffs were sharper, the lake stiller. The soft early sunlight brushed the tops of the trees, somehow making them look taller. It wasn’t exactly quiet. I had a number of dogs that greeted me as I passed their yards, but the town seemed so peaceful as to be almost magical. I think I was surprised because I find this area to be so peaceful anyway. What was really the difference?

A handful of early morning runs went by. Soon, I had a good idea of why I loved seeing our town at this time of day. I believe it comes down to perception. Everything looked different because I saw it in a different situation. I wasn’t driving, I wasn’t on the way to somewhere else; I wasn’t talking to someone or listening to music. It was an entirely different way of experiencing the physical environment in which we live. And because I experience it differently, the perception of that physical environment is totally different. Walking the streets of a busy city at night can have the same effect. It might as well be a different city altogether.

I notice that children have a similar reaction to perception. Moving toys to a different location when they are not around is almost like buying them a brand new toy. In a different spot, it looks totally different and freshly exciting, providing volumes of new exploration.

After my revelation about perception, it made me wonder what else would change if simply viewed at a different time of day or in a different location. Would an angry person in the checkout line look happier if met in the parking lot? Would an argument change dimensions? Would a joke told in one scenario be funnier than if it had been told in another?

How much of what we see and experience is simply the luck of perception? Is it possible that things we either love or hate could have had different outcomes if we’d first experienced them in a different environment? It makes me stop and wonder. After all, what is love or hate besides perception?

Recognizing that it may be just a change in perception that makes me appreciate my early morning runs doesn’t actually lessen the joy one bit. I still love to get outside with the dawn, and as long as the sun is up early, I will be too.

Previously published in "The Star," Grand Coulee, Washington. July 27, 2011

Are parents everywhere just winging it?

Watching my daughter draw the other day, I stumbled upon one of the timeless parenting questions that have neither a right nor wrong answer. When your child is doing something the wrong way, do you correct them or let them figure it out for themselves?

She was happy, entertained, undertaking a creative activity … but she was coloring all wrong! She just turned 2 in March, so why I expect her to be able to hold a marker correctly is beyond me, but I felt I had to show her how to hold it so the side of the marker presses into the page instead of the tip. Coloring with just the tip seemed hardly gratifying to me as it just put little scratches on the page. The second I tried to help her, a tantrum arose and that was it for the fun.

I felt perplexed. Was it wrong of me to try and show her how to color? She seemed happy, so why did I feel the need to direct her differently? As a parent, it’s hard to know when you should let your kid figure it out on their own and when to offer guidance. There are some days when I feel all I do is bark orders of one kind or another. If she’s happy, but carrying out some craft incorrectly, shouldn’t I just leave her alone?

A couple days later, I tried a different route. We were drawing again, but this time out in the driveway with the sidewalk chalk tracing each other. We took turns. First she lay down and I traced her outline, a small 2-D child in pink chalk. Then it was my turn. I gamely lay down on the rough concrete. She went to each limb and was very serious and focused. I stood up and looked down and all I could see were some faint scratch marks. There was no shape at all. Nevertheless, I clapped my hands and exclaimed in excitement over such a fine job.

This time it was her turn to look perplexed. Looking down at her outline and then at mine, she clearly could see something was amiss and looked to me for guidance. But did I give it to her? Oh, no. She’s having fun, playing outdoors in the gorgeous sunshine and somewhere in there, she’s learning something all on her own, right?

After two years, I am still unsure of my role as a parent in some regards. Am I there for guidance, or just support? I can envision women with older children wisely telling me we are there for both, some combination of encouragement and direction, but that invisible line is not always clear. It’s times like these that make me wonder if parents anywhere really know what they are doing. Just when you figure out how to do one thing, a child will move onto the next and everyone has to learn a new skill. I imagine this to be true even as your children become adults. Growing up you think your parents have all the answers, but now that I’m a parent myself, I have to wonder, are parents everywhere just winging it?

I know eventually I will figure out when to give gentle instruction and when to just clap my hands enthusiastically. Clearly, there is a balance there somewhere. Simply doing one or the other would almost certainly raise an ill-adjusted adult. In the meantime I’ll align myself with parents everywhere and just wing it.

Previously published in "The Star," Grand Coulee, Washington. July 13, 2011

Fun in the sun a welcome change

On a recent touristy afternoon, I took my parents to Dry Falls Dam.  This was their first visit to Grand Coulee and in the weeks leading up to their arrival, I wondered how I would entertain them; Mother Nature had been relentless.  A trip to Dry Falls Dam seemed like a safe activity to plan as we could enjoy it regardless of the weather.

I am new to the area having moved here in early January.  All winter I heard promises of a beautiful spring and summer and all the lazy days on the lake we would have.  I was optimistic, but cautious.  The long cold spring has been scattered with gloriously sunny days, but for the most part, what I’ve seen of the skies above Grand Coulee have been gray. 

But slowly, those gloriously sunny days have become more than just scattered abnormalities and have become the dominant weather pattern.  In the gift shop at Dry Falls with my parents I saw a mug that said “Fun in the Sun, Grand Coulee, Washington.”  I bought it immediately.  Now, I get it!  The first weekend my parents arrived we spent every spare minute at one of the many beaches around town, on the lake in a rented boat, or in my backyard sipping cold, summery drinks.

I am not totally new to a gray winter sky.  I did spend two wet years getting my Master’s degree at Oregon State University but those years are getting increasingly distant faster than I would like to admit.  Since then, my family and I have lived in Santa Fe, New Mexico.  When I tell people who have never lived in the Southwest that Santa Fe has 300 days of sunshine, they usually emit a small desperate sigh.  As if nothing they could imagine could be better than all that sun.  But in reality, there is a part of all of us, or at the very least a part of me, who wishes for a bit of blustery weather during winter.  It’s strange to be so bitterly cold outside, the sun blasting at you and not a cloud in sight.  On a typical cold winter day in Santa Fe you are bundled up to your eyeballs in winter clothes, hop in your car and promptly turn on the air conditioner. 

Since moving to Grand Coulee, I have been reintroduced to that favorite American pastime of wondering about the weather, talking about the weather and trying to plan for the weather.  I have loved every minute of it.  I honestly forgot what it was like to feel the sun on your skin and rejoice in it.  When you have too much of a good thing, even too much sunshine, it’s remarkable how quickly you come to take it for granted.  On the first beautiful day this spring I sat out in my backyard, my daughter playing in the grass beside me.  I am embarrassed to admit that I had tears in my eyes I felt so happy.  How is it possible that simply a sunny day could make me feel so good when six months ago I was wishing for just one gray day so I could cozy down with a book and a roaring fire? 

I read a book once about a scrappy old Scottish broad who never let the weather dampen her outdoor activities.  She persevered in all weather.  I immediately admired and envied this character, but as time has gone on I have realized that she is the exception and not the rule.  Although I think we all would like to have a bit of defiance in us when it comes to the weather, it’s likely that we will all see a bit more of our neighbors now that the sun has returned to Grand Coulee.  So for now, I am taking the slogan on my new mug to heart and am going to have “Fun in the Sun” in Grand Coulee.

Previously published in "The Star", Grand Coulee, Washington. June 29, 2011