I went for a run on the beach this morning.  The sun was just peeking over the edge of the horizon and the tide was out, leaving me a wide expanse of hard-packed sand on which to run.  And run I did, enjoying the simplicity of the moment.

The pull of the ocean on mornings like today is pretty awesome.  It reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend years ago about the magnetic quality of the beach and the ocean on humanity in general.  As an atheist, he theorized that because we had evolved from aquatic creatures, something in our genetic makeup recognized the ocean as home.  That we felt more connected to the Earth and our place in it when we stood at the edge of land and looked out onto the horizon.

It’s a pretty romantic notion, though I’m not sure I totally buy that theory.  Which made me think about what my own theory is — because I do think it’s a true statement that most of humanity feels a connection with the ocean on some level.

And I think it’s about perspective.  Perspective is our capacity to view things in their true relations or relative importance, according to Webster.   Our ability to evaluate what is important and to prioritize our emotional energy.   If that’s the case, then I think the ocean is like the CTRL+ALT+DELETE on perspective.  The confirmation to your brain to close all browser tabs and exit without saving.   If you’re paying attention at all, it’s impossible to stand at the edge of the ocean and not realize how insignificant most of our day to day struggles really are.   How insignificant we are.

Staring at the ocean is perhaps the closest glimpse of infinity and eternity we have as humans — two concepts I don’t think the human brain is really capable of comprehending.  But I think the soul comprehends them.  And I think it’s easier, either consciously or subconsciously,  to set down the burdens you’ve been carrying with you and let go — at least for a minute — when you stand on the beach.  To have fresh perspective that we are passing. That this life is passing.  That the play of the waves against the shore will continue long after we are gone, and that few of the mental burdens we carry with us from day to day will really matter in the end.

The ocean, I think, calls to us not because we are originally aquatic, but because our souls are longing for realignment and confirmation of perspective.  That’s why I think we pilgrimage to the beach — to the ocean — all over the world.  To accept that invitation to set down our own inflated sense of importance.  The idea that everything matters so very much, and to accept with relief our own fleeting presence in the world.

This week, I plan to embrace the feeling of insignificance and spend as many hours staring out at the ocean as possible.  To allow myself to let go a little and truly relax in a way that’s just hard to do anywhere else.  And I hope that when the time comes to go home, I can retain a little of that feeling and a little of that refreshed perspective that comes from spending time at the beach.