I’ve had an affinity with the beach since I was young. Every time I had the opportunity to take a vacation, it would almost always be the beach. My younger self would spend hours alternating between tanning in the sun and taking a dip in the waters.
The first time I attempted to travel alone, it was also at the beach. Back then I was a night owl – I would work till 8am in the morning, then head to the beach and sleep. In between my drowsiness I would spend hours in the sea just floating. In the vast ocean, the heaviness that seems to haunt me everywhere I go would seemingly melt away.
My current self prefers being in cities. I’ve been deprived of stimulation because of the pandemic, so every time I travel I want to immerse myself in colours, sounds and sights.
But for my partner’s birthday we decided to be in busan, a city that is also known for its beaches. I am used to the laid back vibes of south-east asian beaches, so the beaches of busan felt strangely foreign to me. I like that even as we age we can still accumulate new experiences and sensations.
My heart rate variability (hrv) went through the roof (increased an average of 20-30ms) on all the mornings I spent sleeping near the beaches. My partner told me it is because the beach has a ton of negative ions, and they are good for health. I thought she was bullshitting me but it turns out again she was right.
In the mornings we would see plenty of old folk walking along the waters. Do they know about the benefits of negative ions and grounding? The beach is traditionally known to be a place for healing. Sometimes I think our ancestors know more about health than us.
Most of the days we were there the weather was foggy. Despite the gloom people still played and enjoyed themselves at the beach. Being a perpetual grinch I don’t really know how to enjoy myself anymore but I do like to witness other people having fun.
Recently I remembered that it was my partner that indirectly inspired me to take on photography, and it has become such a meaningful expression for me. I don’t do it as often as I would have liked back home, because it is difficult to see beauty in familiarity. But when I travel I see beauty everywhere. Everything is interesting to me. I often lament that I can drive from east to west of singapore in an hour, and I am always envious of my friend who told me she would drive from slovenia to italy in 2 hours just to go shopping in ikea.
I like taking photos of photographers. I would like to believe there is a commonality between all of us – people who would lug around a heavy camera (okay mine is not that heavy comparatively) so we can have a shot of capturing something that would astound us.
As I go through my photos I keep realising what is astounding to me is not jaw-dropping views, but just scenes of everyday life. I am self-admittedly misanthropic, but travelling makes me love the world.
The morning after we left the beach, my heart rate variability dropped like a cliff.
This makes me think deeply about my body’s relationship with nature, and how disconnected and disassociated I am. I have forgotten what it is like to be a beach bum, how I used to spend hours truly doing nothing.
Even while travelling I feel perpetually anxious, weighed down with a sense of dread. I think I have very flimsy boundaries between my self and the world – everything seems to affect me very deeply, and I don’t have the capacity to compartmentalise like everyone else.
It seems to get worse as I age – I don’t know if it is me ageing or if the world is getting worse or both. It is probably not going away, and I have to figure out how to exist while having all these feelings and sensations.
I guess this is a strange post. I wanted to write my regular sunday post and publish these photos as well, so I did both without considering too much if they belong together. I think to be able to publish is a rare and precious thing that cannot be taken for granted, so I just wish to do whatever I can in this moment, because sometimes I feel it truly deeply: this current moment is the moment I have, and I am not sure about the next.