“I don’t know. Everywhere. Nowhere. It doesn’t matter. Let’s get lost.”
–Love and the Sea and Everything in Between
Last night, I went on an adventure with my best friend. My best friend had just finished reading Love and the Sea and Everything in Between and we were talking about how we both were free spirits, both with a desire to live life. He told me about how, in his younger days (granted, he’s only 26) he would just do whatever he wanted to do, no responsibilities, not a care in the world – nothing but freedom. And I told him how I’ve always had a free spirit, but something always got in the way. Whether it was work, family, school, or just life in general.
And so, feeling the wanderlust, we made a decision. We would get lost together. We would just drive and drive and go wherever we wanted. Do whatever we wanted. Be whoever we wanted.
So I drove us to the beach. I’d never driven to the beach before so I really had no idea where I was going. Nonetheless I drove and we talked the whole way there, discovering things about each other that we never knew before. It felt so good to be able to sit beside each other without distraction and just talk, enjoying the presence of one another. To know that each of us was all there, in that moment. Nothing else mattered.
We arrived at the beach and made our way up to Bodega Head, a cliff that overlooked the whole of the ocean. It was pitch black and, according to Roman, “creepy.” (He wasn’t wrong; it was freakin’ creepy out there.)
I parked at the overlook and turned off my headlights and stared out the windows for a second before climbing out into the wind. We could hear the roar of the ocean and the sky from inside the car. After a moment’s pause, we embraced the elements.
And we both looked up. The sky was extraordinary. It was the first time in my life that I’d ever seen the stars as clear as they were that night. I could see the Milky Way and how the stars clustered together in what could only be described as a cloud of light.
Looking back out toward the ocean I saw the foaming waves crash into the rocks and the cliffside. It was incredibly exhilarating. (Though, that might have been the bite of the cold wind.)
Neither my phone, nor Roman’s had a camera that could capture this moment. We were slightly disappointed, but in the end I’m thankful that I could experience that moment not through the lens of an iPhone camera, but with my own eyes. And with my own soul, I could feel the vibration of eternity.
Flashlights in hand to ensure we didn’t walk right off the mountain and into the sea, we made our way to the edge of the cliff, walking as close as we dared to the the drop off. There are no words to describe the wondrous awe induced by the way the starry night sky kissed the swelling ocean. Or the way the fog silhouetted the distant mountains.
I felt as though I was standing on the edge of the world. And I was, as Roman reminded me. I couldn’t stop smiling. I was filled with such utter wonder as could never be quenched as I stood between my best friend and the end of the world.
There’s something beautiful about sharing a moment like that with someone you care so deeply about. There’s something extraordinarily life-changing. I’ve tasted freedom and I’ve tasted wonder; and now I know that I need more.
I am starved for adventure.