In Los Angeles, we are about that beach life. When the weather forecast is exceptionally good, everyone gets the same idea to go to the beach before (or during) work to enjoy a few moments of surf and sand. I’ve known people from school and work who go to the beach at sunrise to surf before starting their day – for some, it’s a religion.
Growing up in Compton, my family went to Long Beach or San Pedro on weekends. Walking the shoreline, and sampling local seafood alongside other working class beach-goers at The Pike and Ports O’ Call. When I got older I visited beaches in Northern California and Miami’s South Beach, creating some of my most enjoyable life experiences.
These days, the beach is my happy place, a retreat from the world when shit gets crazy. When I need to calm my thoughts I take a joint and a notebook with me, settle in and free write while waiting for traffic to subside. Other times I take my shoes off, roll up my pants, and walk among the waves, soaking up the views while the Pacific salt water washes my feet. When I’m done I feel grounded, re-energized, and more connected to the earth. And I think to myself: I am blessed and thankful for the ability to visit the beach whenever I want.