The White Whale Runs Aground: West Coast, Best Coast?

People in the Bay Area of CA have this whole “epic lifestyle” thing down. Okay, that might be an overgeneralization, but I have to hand it to the West Coast, they know a thing or two about a thing or two. West Coasters no doubt work very hard. But it seems like it’s just as important for them to kick it doing something they really enjoy after their work-selves have cashed in for the day. I’m talking about play, people.

Per my very limited sampling this past week, the West Coast seems to be up to lots of play and fun. And it’s largely active and outdoorsy. I can get with that. But then again, why WOULDN’T you want to be kicking it with Mother Nature all the time if you had a seemingly endless supply of sunshine, virtually no concept of humidity, and awesome views like this waiting just out your back door:

Spending the week out there was a ton of fun, and provided me with a novel, interesting take on vacation—one which I am dubbing “active relaxation.” We were busy doing something on our trip literally every day. Checking out wine country. Hiking up/down trails. Walking around a crazy house with a thousand rooms. Scoping out famous beaches overlooking rocks filled with seals. Poking around former prisons. Pretending to be at Wimbledon when playing tennis in Stanford’s stadium. Trekking San Francisco’s infamous hills. Chasing down Flash Gordon. And, of course, housing a TON of food.
Even though we were constantly moving about, it was really relaxing! What’s more, I began to feel more in touch with the stuff I “used to do”—you know, before “life” got in the way. The pace of things out there seemed to slow way down to manageable, tasty little morsels of life that I could really appreciate. Yum!

Then I returned to my “real life” in and around NYC suburbia. The stark contradiction made me realize a few things:

One: in this area of the world, we all seem to live for work. Obviously, work is a major part of how we spend our day to day lives and can make us feel accomplished and purposeful. And I mean, who doesn’t appreciate earning some green to offset our expenses? But between commuting in, commuting out, and then trying to recuperate from ~~everyone’s collective attitude problem~~ so much in your face all at once (as is the culture around here), it’s no doubt we are relatively blob-like come quitting time. Le sigh. Where’s the fun it that?! I’ll take wine country and hikes on the weekends, please!

Two: I forgot how much I love to be outside. I grew up in what many might consider the town next to the middle of nowhere, and I can remember being outside and exploring for most of it. (I was that cool kid running around for hours, scraping trees for bark and berries, digging in the ground for worms, then putting it all in my “play pot,” mixing it with water and calling it “soup.” It’s cool, you can be jealous.) Somewhere in the grind of ~~make believe~~ adulthood, I lost touch with that rudimentary part of me. Major bummer. It really does make me feel good to spend time outside, simply playing. With trees ~~I can defile~~, water ~~for “soup,”~~ and sunshine. Where being active doesn’t come with the price of feeling obligated or rushed. It’s just the best of both worlds—peaceful exploration.

It’s high time I return to that playful part of me…she’s way more interesting (and happy—bonus!). Too bad I came to this epic conclusion during the last few weeks of summer, huh? Oh morbid coincidences…

As the fall rolls in, I’m going to make more of an effort to catch some rays, crunch some leaves, and climb some hills—if I can find them. After all, we’re all adults here (teehee, when did that happen?), but that doesn’t mean we’re ever too old to play.

Case and point, here’s some more photos of my West Coast debauchery.