Mood Shift: A Reminder

Sometimes you feel your mood shift to dark and ugly, and you don't really know what monkey is driving it, who's sitting on your shoulder kicking you, keeping you off balance.  Bad news, foolish behavior and mean spiritedness - even if masked by disdain and indifference in those around you - effect a poverty of attitude that can overtake you.  

Zen masters practice mindfulness and simplicity.  Perhaps I need to meditate.  What I do know is:  I need to be outdoors, moving in open spaces near fresh water.  The sound of any water is as good to me as gold piled up to the ceiling; if it's a running stream, fresh and cool, I know there is a god.

At 7 this morning we were beachcombing at the ocean's edge with the morning light throwing sand, rocks and wind-riffled waves into sharp relief.  It was quiet and still except for small waves breaking lightly, shushing themselves.  It made the ocean sound like it was breathing.

No fog today; blue sky arched from yesterday to tomorrow and the slightest of air moved through everything.  Memorial Day visitors are getting an eyeful of what our region is renowned for:  A beauty that's both soft and rugged, a condition of contrasts and compelling iconic scenery.  Trees grow out of rocks.  Steep cliffs are sprinkled with tiny brilliant flowers.  The soft blue ocean is bitterly cold.

We drove far up Carmel Valley from the coast to say hello to friends at The Cachagua General Store, which cannot be described in usual ways.  Suffice it to say that far up the valley, even amid vineyards and ranches, is a small parallel universe of folks who have eddied out of the mainstream, thumbing their noses at convention and conformity, rambling down life's path to the beat of a roughshod drummer who drinks beer, loves real dogs and keeps guns as a god-given right.  Cachagua is the anti-Carmel, a tattooed and sometimes drug-bedeviled community of rebellious misfits, some with hearts of gold and good intentions, some not so.  Michael Jones is the chef, inveterate soccer fan, ravenous consumer of all things literary and crazy man at the helm of A Moveable Feast, catering events all over the county and beyond. You do not want to offend this man; he plays with fire and knives, and he's Irish.  That should be enough warning for you.

You can get a rich and decadent eggs benedict if the place is open on Sunday for brunch, which we did today.  It was satisfying to be in a place where the owner's dog stopped by for a backrub, Simon and Garfunkel sang on the stereo and the "waitress" wondered if we were there to eat.  People stop by to say hi all the time, so she checks.

The hills were showing signs of early summer drying, but wildflowers were blooming in the shade of oaks and laurel trees on the way to the county reservoir called Los Padres.  It had been years since I'd been there, far too long.  After our meal, we set out to see how Spring was laying on the hills up there.  

There's a walk of about a mile or less to the dam from a dirt parking lot near a gate.  It's very wide and very easy for most people.  Loaded down with food in our bellies, the going was a tad slow.  I thought about how differently we walk when barefooted and with shoes on, how dominant one feels when shod.

The dam water was flowing over its spillway, producing a soothing and lulling steady sound.  When the rains have been heavy, the place thunders and shakes; the entire spillway is a torrent.  The lake behind the dam was very serene with one kayaker off in the distance fishing for trout.  There was a riffling scuff of wind on its dark blue surface.

We poked around and explored, enjoying the experience of being alone in a semi-natural place.  The air was sweet with riparian woods and fresh running water.  I could have sat by the water in the shade down below the spillway for a long time.  I felt like a visitor, a foreigner, out of place only because I do not make time to go to places like that often enough.

I remembered how off balance I had felt yesterday and earlier this morning. I was reminded yet again that foregoing perverse and disturbing aspects of human behavior for long bouts of time in nature is absolutely and undeniably what I need to be stable and healthy.