The closest I came to reaching nirvana on the trip was here. I thought that Mt. Rainier National Park was the most beautiful place I had ever seen until I stopped at Oswald West State Park and walked down a path that revealed this majestic enclave where hordes of surfers had gathered for the afternoon.
THIS is what I was looking for. This is what I had traveled two thousand miles to see. The redwood trees, the endless waves, the soaring bluffs, the crisp ocean air. The perfect antidote to the flat urban concrete landscape that had numbed my senses for the past decade.
If it were actually possible to find oneself, this was exactly the kind of setting where I liked to imagine it would happen. At the top of the bluff, my future spirit would be there waiting for me behind a tree, ready to whisper “the answer” in my ear. Indulging myself in this romantic notion more than I’d probably care to admit, I darted up a trail to the top.