I realized the other day that of all my blog posts, I haven’t really done one about Oceanside, this town I’ve lived in for the last 4 or 5 months. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here; once the bike ride starts, I’m putting my stuff in storage and I don’t know quite where I’ll end up after that; even if I come back to this area, I probably will head down towards Carlsbad or Encinitas. Which is not to say that I *don’t* like Oceanside. Oceanside is hard to pin down, and I think that’s been a lesson in and of itself. It doesn’t fit into nice categories. When you think about San Diego, for example, you think about sunshine and beaches. Oceanside has some of that, of course, but actually until lately the weather has been kind of terrible and grey. And the beach, which is where I’m sitting as I type this, is kind of rocky and unsubstantial. Again, it sounds like I hate it, which isn’t true; I like it. But it doesn’t line up with anything. But then, I think most places are like that. It isn’t rich, it isn’t poor. It is just this mix of things. Places can be like that. People can be like that. The world doesn’t line up in neat little rows. This is a beautiful spot right here, the closest beach to my little house, with the two drainage pipes and the pile of rocks. There isn’t any sand because the tide is high, so the waves drag back across the rocks with a really pleasant rolling sound. Several guys are out trying to surf, but they don’t seem to be having much luck. I’m not sure the waves are big enough. I haven’t actually spent a ton of time here; I’ve been traveling, and also driving back and forth to Las Vegas, where I had started a relationship with someone. And the whole time, I’ve been working remotely. I have a nice big desk in my tiny house, framed with old wood paneling from the 1960s. I have a tiny gas stove. Up the street is a 7-11. The whole place pretty much shuts down at night. In the town center they are clearly trying to gentrify the area; there’s some very expensive apartments and condos and hotels and a few fancy restaurants. I could see spending a nice vacation here, if you’re into that. There’s a high end bouldering gym up the street that I joined but never go to. I can’t get a handle on who Oceanside people are, and maybe that’s because it’s really a transition area. To the north is Camp Pendleton, and I think this area until recently wasn’t much to look at, just housing for the military. But as you go south there are some very expensive areas. Encinitas is fancy and spiritual, the opposite of Camp Pendleton and the marines. So Oceanside lives between worlds. It seems like a tiny place, but I found out at one point that there’s actually over 100,000 people here. And most people in the US live in places like this. Not the big cities but the smaller cities off to the side of those big cities. What I’ll remember about Oceanside is my tiny electric heater because I thought it would be warm but it wasn’t. The weird indian guys at the 7-11. Working long nights at my wooden desk from Ikea. Images of the park a few miles away where I’ve been running. Jogging on the beach and having a couple take a selfie of me. A sort of hibernation. I gained 20 pounds here, not on purpose of course. It’s funny because I thought San Diego would be this place where I would really expand on my athletic side; become a triathlete. Sit on the beach. It didn’t work out that way, but I have a no regrets. Oceanside is just a place. What I bring to it is my own work. I don’t think I belong here, but that’s OK. I don’t have to.
I am simply going to lay here
Until I no longer want to lay here
It’s OK; I’ve done enough. I earned it.
Without my rest, then there is nothing left to rest for
When once turns twice and thrice and space is filled
Then what is left? Are we to say that life is left unlived
With space unfilled? And what of cluttered spaces then?
The sea, it knows, it fills itself with nothing, flows
From shore to shore with no more work then waves which never
Span the deep, and so shall I, with rocks between, love empty space
And places left unknown.