Sea of tranquility

Why do we love the sea? It is because it has some potent power to make us think things we like to think.
                                                         - Robert Henri

PORTLAND — Staring out over an ocean without a cell phone at our disposal is not an issue for this family of three.

But I am willing to bet there are millions of poor souls who are tethered to technology and would find it impossible being alone with their thoughts and without a cell phone on a empty beach.

In an age of constant texting, Twittering, iPods, iPads, Facebook, television, radio and email, face-to-face conversations appear to be taking a back seat to social media. I will never understand it, and I am not going to make an effort to do so.

I have heard about the endless Tweets (I am not a subscriber) where somebody announces that they are standing on top of the Eiffel Tower. If I had an account, I might be tempted to write back: "Jump!"

Sure, this blog is coming to you from Auburn, Maine via the Internet. A handful of people from around the globe have seen or read it, and I thank you all for taking time out of your mind-numbing schedules to take a peek. I also understand technology isn't going away, and I do use it at home and at work.

I write because I enjoy it, and I hope you enjoy these essays, too, and if you are bored stiff, turn the page or move on to the next blog. I understand.

Like writing, I love exploring Maine's 3,478 miles of coastline and hiking the Pine Tree State's wooded trails without being intravenously hooked up to some form of technology. We often forget about our $10 Track Phone as we meander up and down the grassy paths. We purposely leave the damn thing in the car when we are on the beach. The last F--- thing I want is a phone call when I am about to plunge into the surf with my son.

Disappearing into the woods or sea is the only way I can find peace of mind in a world where an eight-hour news cycle is now eight minutes. Thanks to all this technology, we are multitasking and living life to the 100th power with no end in sight.

Whew! I get tired of thinking about it. 

That's why nature is rejuvenating and doesn't make me feel obsolete in this throw-away society.

It explains why this family of three hopped into the car and headed to Portland to traverse the Eastern Promenade's coast and inhale it's soothing sea breezes on a Columbus Day morning. My family is like a lifeboat in a raging storm of endless technology. They throw me a rope when I feel like I am about to go under.

It was a chilly 60 degrees, but there were plenty of friendly faces to wish us good morning as we all took our brisk walks. I like that — a face-to-face encounter with a polite stranger. That was as refreshing as the salt air. 

After touring the promenade, all three of us sat on a beach wall and didn't say a word. The cell phone was back in the car and we don't own an iPod. They were only few people walking the sand.

Just plenty of silence as we listened to the gentle surf lap the beach. Sometimes less is more and silence is golden.

And the absence of technology on a sunny, fall morning really is a beautiful thing.