I visited this special place with two friends and a new puppy. It was a splendid, sunny October day. I soaked up everything I could see, smell and touch. And by following up on my first visit there with friends instead of solo, I added to a pillar of a vibrant, complete life of my choosing.
The park
This park is special. It is about 1 hour and 45 minutes from Portland. If you leave around mid-morning, you have time for a burger and fish and chips in the coastal town of Cannon Beach, which is what we did.
There is a quarter-mile trail leading from the main parking lot to the beach. A hike connects you to incredible vistas where you can watch the waves, the landforms, the seabirds and the vast Pacific Ocean. I could have spent the whole day out there but daylight was getting shorter and we wanted some time on the beach after hiking.
The other hikers quickly thin out after several patches of thick mud. Even on a rare sunny day in October, there are no “crowds” to complain about.
My companions
I went with my birding friend, with another friend who has captivated me, and with her puppy.
Shy people like me celebrate and marvel the rare instance of being “adopted” by an outgoing person with a network of connections. This has happened to me twice. Yet in both cases we became equals because I reciprocated her social gifts with special things that I brought but had hitherto underestimated or failed to recognize that I possessed them. And this time it was I who connected people and organized the outing. Both of my friends praised me for connecting them and “getting them out there.”
We hiked and touched and looked. And my friend got many photos of her adorable puppy, who we carried in a pack for most of the way. That puppy was seeing everything for the first time. She will have a life full of love and care and of day trips like that.
We raced the setting sun to get back to Short Sand Beach. We watched the sun set over the clear horizon and ran with the puppy on the hard strip of sand near the water.
My renewed focus on relationships
I visited this same park a year ago. I took LSD before setting out and enjoyed branching, recursive cogitations on ecology, evolution and the wondrous clash of the living and nonliving spheres. I had a great time.
But I was alone.
In the past, I placed undue emphasis on knowledge and understanding. I thought that was the key to life and contentment. I thought that non-attachment to people and things was a sort of freedom.
I still believe it to an extent. But I now see other people as playing a central role in my life. My 2020 started with a scary event that made me reconnect with old friends. I repaired relationships. I strengthened new ones.
I chose my place to live (the Pacific northwest). I chose my paradigm for understanding the world (science and rationality). And now I am choosing the people who will complete and enrich my life.
I’ll visit Oswald West State Park again each year to watch the sunset and mark the tempo and milestones of my own development. And I’ll bring along cherished friends.