The Waves of Change

We spent yesterday at the Costa Azul Resort on the beach in San Pancho, Nayarit (check it out at http://www.costaazul.com/). It's my favourite beach in the "Costa Vallarta" region although it's not a swimming beach by any stretch of the imagination. There's huge surf ("olas altas" - tall waves) and a strong undertow. We've never seen more than a handful of people on this wildly gorgeous strip of soft golden sand. San Pancho is not over-developed and the homes (many of which are multi-million dollar villas featured in architecture and design magazines) and hotels/resorts have a tasteful, understated presence. San Pancho feels like "old money."

A lone surfer braved the waves yesterday; I watched him as he did some stretching on the beach before launching himself and his board into the roiling water, and I do believe I saw him pray first. Could have been just a yoga move, but a prayer couldn't hurt before facing Mother Nature's version of the spin cycle on your washing machine.

In just the 18 months or so that we've been regularly going to San Pancho, the beach sand has been significantly re-shaped many times. The relentless ocean waves and wind just push against the shore, which constantly adjusts; the shore doesn't complain and doesn't actively resist. It just beautifully and gracefully reshapes itself in response to the forces enacted upon it. Note to self: try to be more like the San Pancho beach!

Unlike the ever resilent beach sands, we humans try positions of "Enough, stop already! I'm tired of the pressures and constant change forced on me! It's just all too much!" I admit to having been mentally spending a lot of time in this realm of late. I know it's futile, but I seem to need some whining space and time before I can move forward. I remind myself that the beach dunes get reshaped by trillions of single grains of sand shifting. I've shifted many times before, in large ways and small ways. I can and will do it again.

I smile to think of my latest example of changing things up and making adjustments. I love collecting shells and can spend hours beachcombing. Unfortunately, the Bay of Banderas and Costa Vallarta don't offer much in this department. What I did notice and started collecting this year is "beach glass", also called "sea glass." Those bits of broken bottles and other glass that get smoothed round and frosted from being tumbled in the surf with sand and pebbles. I am taking home quite a collection of frostily translucent clear, pale aqua, and green beach glass, along with three prized pieces of deep blue glass (internet research tells me that only about 1 in 100 pieces of beach glass will be blue).

As I go home and face the challenges ahead, I will keep open to seeing the "blue glass" moments that are waiting to be discovered.

Todo bien.