Discovery

So I've had a 2010 parking sticker for Seaside Park since this spring, but I had yet to go there.  So many people had told me it was the greatest beach around.  "Oh, yes, Seaside Beach is beautiful!" they'd tell me.  But I had my own preconceived notions.  How beautiful can a beach on the Long Island Sound be?  I'm accustomed to the beautiful open waters of Maine.  So far my experience of Connecticut's shore has been sadly lacking.  And Bridgeport - that's an industrial port city.  How can there be a beautiful beach in an industrial port city?

I love the ocean, so I kept thinking about that sticker in my glove compartment.  "I should get down there to check it out," I'd tell myself.  But my summer's been full of all kinds of activity.  And I kept allowing myself to be discouraged by the drive through Bridgeport, which I imagined would take forever, since I feel like it takes forever just to get to St. Vincent's Hospital, which is not that far into the city and right down the road from here.  I also kept telling myself it would be too hot, or the place would be too crowded, or that there were other more important things I had to attend to first.  So I didn't get there all summer.

The view of the sound from the beach

But today I happened to have this gloriously sunny morning free, and I decided that since my dog, who likes walking in the woods, is up in NH, maybe I'd finally take myself down to Seaside Park to check it out and take my walk there.  ("Is it long enough for a good walk?" I wondered to myself.)  So I headed straight down Park Avenue, because someone had told me that that's the easiest way to get there.  Just go south on Park Avenue all the way to the end and there you are.  I was surprised that Park Avenue seemed much easier to navigate than Main Street, and I got there in only about 15 minutes.

The jetty out to the lighthouse

Well, if you've ever been to Seaside Park, you know what I found.  There are 325 acres of nice lawns and ball fields peppered with tall, mature trees, three miles of beautiful, clean beaches, and an impressive rock jetty that leads out to a picturesque light house.  The park was designed in the 19th century by Frederick Law Olmstead, who also designed Central Park in NYC, and was developed and promoted by PT Barnum.   There are bath houses, snack stands, bike paths, pretty statues, beautiful ocean vistas and, my favorite, lots of ocean rocks and shells.  In short, it is beautiful there - even more beautiful than people said it was, and by far more beautiful than I ever imagined it would be.

My piles of rocks

Best of all, I found a spot to pile rocks.  (for more about piling rocks, see my post from April 29)  This is one of the most centering and relaxing activities I can think of, and I really miss being able to get to Kittery Point Beach to do it.  Until today, I hadn't found a place in CT that felt inviting for rock piling.  I was home!

Miles of Beach

And I thought to myself that this discovery of mine is kind of what people go through with faith.  Other people can tell you all they want about how wonderful it is, but until you really decide to go there yourself, you'll never know what it's about.  You can harbor lots of preconceptions about what faith is like, and your preconceptions can keep you away for a long time.  Your life can also be so full that you don't end up taking the time to go there.  Other things just seem more pressing, and your faith takes a back seat.

Memorial to those lost at sea

But once you finally do go, you discover a beauty that pretty much takes your breath away, and you want to go there again and again.  You find things there that remind you who you really are.  You find your home.  You wonder why it took you so long. 

I sure am glad I took the time to check out Seaside Park.  Trust me - it won't be long before I'm back there again.

Practice

Well, I haven't written in weeks.  I really like my blog, and enjoy writing it.  It's kind of like keeping a scrapbook.  I enjoy having my camera with me to snap pictures of things that strike me as beautiful or thought provoking, and I like coming home and taking a few minutes to write about what I experienced.  I started this blog last spring, and have posted about once a week or even more since then - until July.   With vacation and other schedule changes, I got out of practice and here it is a month since I last wrote.

It strikes me that most things of value in life require practice, whether you're talking about learning how to play an instrument, becoming good at a craft, or learning how to be a good spouse, friend or parent.  Doctors and lawyers and other professionals call their work their "practice," because skill and wisdom increase with repeated experience - or practice.  And of course, people of faith put many spiritual practices into their lives - doing things like praying, worshipping, studying and performing acts of service regularly - in order to get closer to God and deepen in their faith.

While it takes effort to practice, practice adds up and you get to keep it under your belt.  Though you get rusty when you fall out of practice, you can, with renewed effort, get back and pick up your practice again.  Take running for example.  This summer has been wicked hot, as we say in NH.  Since the heat hit, I have not run three times a week as I did last spring, and I think if I tried to run a 5K tomorrow, I'd certainly have to walk some of it.  But last week, I started walking regularly again.  I don't know if I'll be running like I was last spring any time again soon - or ever.  But I am now back to enjoying the feeling of moving my body down the trail, even if I only break into a run every now and then.

I have often set ambitious goals for myself in life (like running in that 5K last May.)  So I think it's important for me to remember that practice is different than achievement.  Practice is not the means to an end - it is the way I live my life everyday. 

My oldest son, Orion, was a magnificent cello player throughout his youth.  In fact, when he was in high school, he began working with a world class cello teacher who told him he had what it took to be a professional orchestral cellist in an elite orchestra.  "But," the teacher said, "you're going to have to practice 2-3 hours a day for the next two years to get ready for conservatory.  Not many people have this opportunity - or your talent - but I can help you do it if you decide it's what you want."  Orion was deeply impacted by his teacher's invitation to be a cello star, and he began working very hard.  He did practice 2 -3 hours a day that fall, even though you could tell it was like pulling teeth for him some days.  Finally that winter he said to me one day, "I know not many people have this opportunity, but this just isn't me."  He decided a life as a classical cellist was not what he wanted.  Now he spends his time doing a different kind of music.  He is a songwriter and guitarist with his own band.  (http://therockefellerfortune.bandcamp.com/) 

Practicing the cello 2-3 hours was a monumental effort for Orion - something that took incredible self will to maintain and something that made his life feel like it was not his own, but someone else's.  But once he made the switch from classical music to indie folk/rock, he never stopped practicing.  His guitar was practically attached to his body and now he probably plays 2-10 hours a day without giving it a second thought.  Though obviously Orion's practice still takes effort, it is no longer a struggle.  Instead, practice is part of who he is as a human being.  And as a result, his music just keeps getting better and better.  In the end, I admired that he gave cello as a profession a good try, and I also admired that when he realized it wasn't right for him, he let it go. Giving things a try and letting things that are not working go are both important skills we will all be invited to practice over and over in life.

I'm learning more and more every day, in my own practice of life, that forcing myself into a discipline I think I "should" be doing or sacrificing today for the hope of some future goal I think I "should" reach is not what I'm called to do either.  The way I want to practice my life is to willingly engage with the world and live as only I can  - discerning every day how to be more and more what God created me to be.  It often takes quite a bit of effort to joyfully follow God's will for me - it is a practice that often stretches and challenges me. But the more I practice, the more it becomes just who I am.