LOOKING OUT ACROSS THE PACIFIC—MILD OF TEMPER, PEACEABLE

I drove over to the ocean this morning. There is a road in Fort Bragg that takes you right to the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean. Yesterday a big storm had rolled through and the waves today were big, and were crashing into the coastline one right after the other. Even a quarter mile before I reached the coast big, white plumes of foam were leaping up over the cliffs.

I parked my truck and walked out to the edge of the cliff above the ocean, which made me feel vulnerable and a little afraid that the dirt might give way under my feet. I leaned over the edge just enough to be able to peer down to the water. The precariousness made me back away quickly—just not wanting to feel like some small human life the ocean could easily swallow up.

Sitting in the truck some safe distance back felt like a much better place to view the power of the Pacific. "Mild of temper, peaceable," is a definition of the word. Certainly, if you lift up your eyes a little and take the long view of the ocean—looking out towards the horizon—you get the idea. It’s just so damn huge, so flat when you attempt to take it all in.

To use the example above, I think maybe the best idea when looking at anything—any situation—is to lift up your eyes in order to take in the wide view. To see the whole situation. To stand on the edge of a cliff, looking down at the huge waves below is frightening. But seeing the whole ocean changes everything.

While much of the world goes crazy focused today on the war in Iraq and the recent capture of Saddam, I am happy in my simple-minded way, just to be staring out across the Pacific.