Tan Ha

What is home? There is always a beach in it for me. Home is a feeling. It’s never up for debate.

I think about this feeling often when life gets uncertain. I guess it’s a place for me to go back to when I need to recover, rediscover, or remember the gifts of life.

If I had to materialize this feeling into a tangible thing, I’d have to say home is where a beach is right around the corner.

A beach is a sandy shore that meets a body of water. There are waves curling to break up the divide between the intersection of sand and water. It means so much to me.

It’s grounding. I feel the sand seeping into my skin. It reminds me of how the little things can give you big sensations, like a tickle in the toes that sends chills up my spine and makes me laugh. I see the vastness of the ocean. And, even the horizon of the ocean reminds me how much I can’t perceive beyond those limits. I salivate when I anticipate the taste of saltwater. It’s ironic how an abundance of ocean water can make you thirst for a cold beverage. If I can't see, feel and taste the beach, I can smell my way to it. As it breezes through my nostrils, my mind flashes its neurons so that I can see, feel and taste the beach, even with my eyes closed. But speaking of breeze, I hear the waves breaking the shore as it recedes the most. It’s the natural white noise of the beach that seduces me to relax.

It's why I love the beach. It gives me that paradox of how little and big I am. It inspires wonder and amazement. I think about how the sun hits my face, that 8 minute and 20 second old light baking into my skin. It’s crazy how humans are re-arranged atoms of the same material that makes up the sun. Maybe we are the universes way of experiencing itself through our limited sense of touch, sight, taste, smell and sound.

Home is where a beach is because it's grounding. It gives me permission to just be. It a temporary place for me to retreat to because it's only as special as how often I leave it. Maybe that’s why I want to leave it so badly. I lust to travel. Not because of escapism but to to discover my ignorance of home. Home is a feeling.