Philosophy on The Beach: Why The Visit to The Beach Can Bring Us Calm

The smell is noticed first, a pleasant aroma of fresh water blowing in lightly with the soft breeze.

To the ears, the steady permanence of flowing waves becomes music, as water gently breaks against sand and stone.

The lake’s surface, illumed by ample sunlight, shines on the faces of the many onlookers.

What have these onlookers come to see?

What desired experience is to be reached from sitting on the lakeshore?

These were the questions I sought to answer after visiting the calming shores of East Lake Toho, in Saint Cloud, Florida.

Normally, a lax trip to the local lake or beach is considered an occasion one should enjoy, without delving too far into the nature of the enjoyment itself.

Sometimes we wrongfully assume that in investigating our pleasures, we somehow lessen them.

“Just sit back and enjoy it”, we tell ourselves when we get dangerously close to inquiry.

The intense videogame or thrilling blockbuster requires little investigation from us in order to bring entertainment. However, thorough inspection of what brings us pleasure and why it does so will help us to duplicate the process wherever we go, and lessen our reliance on external elements when seeking calmness.

The same is true in the instance of the lake visit.

Now, I’m far from an expert on lakes, but this one was reasonably large, and on this particular Thursday late afternoon it accommodated a fairly impressive array of people.

All along the sandy shore were Floridians of many backgrounds; a lone middle-aged man strummed his guitar on a bench, a young couple sat staring at the waves, an older couple went for a swim, and parents watched contently as their bestirred children ran about the playgrounds in joy.

How could it be that all of these people had showed up at the lake, a mere body of water that paled in comparison to any of Earth’s oceans?

Indeed the question is an interesting one; why do we bother with the visit to the lake, or leisurely trip to the beach?

Why not spend our time engaging in more practical affairs?

The answer is not likely to be found in a science book, or hidden amongst the pages of the common school textbook.

And yet the answer can be found nonetheless, in our very own minds.

When a question of why is asked in relation to our behaviors as individuals and social groups, the answer can most often be found in the act itself.

We know that humans seek certain things, whether it’s companionship, love, or a bacon cheeseburger. One of the most common of these desires (especially in a highly productive capitalistic society) is calmness or tranquility.

Too often are our days filled with frustration and disappointment.

From getting caught in the middle of a traffic jam, to the habitual stress we might feel at our day jobs, conflict and chaos seem to follow us on a regular basis.

The stressful situations in our lives can sometimes be inalterable, innumerable, and intolerable, but not inescapable.

In the ancient eastern tradition of the Chanoyu, or Japanese tea ceremony, the practitioners were meant to experience a feeling of calm as they went through the regular steps as laid out primarily by the philosopher Sen no Rikyu.

We modern-day westerners have little if any ceremonies designed specifically to bring calm, and yet we engage in activities in which the outcome is usually associated with calmness.

The weekend Yoga class, aikido practice, meals at the local restaurant, or trip to the theater are all activities we engage in for want of enjoyment, and to get a break from the common disarray of everyday life.

A fact we sometimes ignore in our communities is our ability to be swayed by our surroundings.

In some ancient traditions, the design of particular buildings was paramount to social growth.

From the majestic Gothic cathedrals of middle age Europe, to the typical architectural design of most Renaissance-era creations, design in architecture was used for specific purposes.

These ancient builders respected the idea that humans are creatures greatly influenced by their surroundings.

Certainly one is more likely to feel comfortable and at peace in the living quarters of a well-organized house, or the quiet of a library, rather than amidst the crowded streets of a modern metropolis, or inside a packed city bus.

Accepting the idea that our surroundings can have large effects on us is not only telling but also helpful, especially if we wish to hold onto a particular state of mind.

But what does this idealism have to do with the lakeshore?

A beach is not a man-made setting, but undoubtedly holds influence over most of us.

Perhaps it’s the continuing flow and crash of the waves that lulls us into peace of mind, or the gentle sway of the trees as the salty air blows past.

Maybe it’s the sand felt in between our toes, or the call of seagulls that inspires tranquility.

The truth is, it’s all of these things.

A setting is a whole made up of many parts. When looking at the parts, it seems like nothing, but as a whole it becomes a “place” in our minds.

The combined elements of the typical beach or lakeshore culminate into a milieu that brings us calm and peace in a normally chaotic world.

In our daily lives conflict is everywhere, but at the lake it seemingly disappears.

The crashing waves and still sands seem to temporarily erase the outside world.

For those musicians, couples, parents, and children that dotted the sandy beach that day, there existed nothing but the lake and the shore.

From that first inhale of fresh air the people’s worries, concerns, and vexations disappeared and were replaced with a clear state of mind and irregular focus.

Human beings most easily find peace where there is no conflict.

While this statement seems axiomatic, it is also a helpful reminder as to the nature of calmness.

Our worries and anxieties fade away in the face of a tranquil surrounding, the once overbearing weight of our problems suddenly becoming as light as they should always have been.

Our worried and occupied minds might threaten to forget about the weekly visit to the beach, but we should regularly remind ourselves to take time off and reflect on our chaotic lives; and what better place is there to do this than on the solitary bench by the lake, and on the picnic blanket facing the seashore?