Galveston and the Gulf of Mexico
Map
Map
Story & Experience
I loved “going to the beach” as a child. I would run full speed into the water and waves the second we arrived. I remember diving into the waves for hours and hours…. there was no doubt the polluting of these waters was already afoot back then. We would spend time after each visit putting baby oil on our feet trying to remove the tar. Now it seems so much more and I can’t imagine how it could ever be cleaned up and truly safe to swim in (though it was full of people when we went!). I took my mom who is now mostly walker-bound and who I am caring for these days. There were so many wounds present in this earth exchange. We sat on the beach, the loss of her mobility kept her from walking to the waters and she spoke of the pain of that loss. We sat just below a Sunoco gas station, that seemed to loom ironically or perfectly for the moment over the waters. The wounds that exist between mother-daughter, even in the most loving of relationships, were present due to a recent disagreement. And then there we were with the waters we came to honor as the gulf is one of those sacrificial places where the human activity of take-take-take has profoundly impacted it’s ecosystem. For me, it’s difficult to swim in anymore knowing how polluted it is, made ever more clear by the string of massive chemical plant after massive chemical plant we drove by via the backroads from Houston. I could feel the loss of the not-a-care-in-the-world innocence of my childhood plunging joyfully in the waters. I worry about the species who call this place home, and the many migrating birds and beings that come through here. We shared stories of the place, for my mom in her elder years it was very much about memories at every life stage leading up to this moment. We talked of the healing of the saltwater for the scraped up knees of childhood that we both could relate to. I wandered the coastline and was happy that despite the throngs of people there was very little garbage. The direct experience of pollution was more the loud booming trucks cruising the road above (seawall), and the diesel truck that pulled up right in front of us to pick up a some sort of trailer on the beach. We sat there with it, and bore witness to that moment, and unavoidably, the fumes. Eventually I made my way to some seaweed, looked for garbage and driftwood, brought along my “travel Ukrainian flag” that is often with me in ceremony, and made a RadJoy bird. We stayed much longer than we planned, as my mom loved it so much to be there despite or perhaps because of her growing lack of mobility. I was moved by several people coming up to us to help get my hobbling mom to the car. The sun set, the pelicans flew over, a seagull dropped in to steal a cheez-it. It was a good day.
I loved “going to the beach” as a child. I would run full speed into the water and waves the second we arrived. I remember diving into the waves for hours and hours…. there was no doubt the polluting of these waters was already afoot back then. We would spend time after each visit putting baby oil on our feet trying to remove the tar. Now it seems so much more and I can’t imagine how it could ever be cleaned up and truly safe to swim in (though it was full of people when we went!). I took my mom who is now mostly walker-bound and who I am caring for these days. There were so many wounds present in this earth exchange. We sat on the beach, the loss of her mobility kept her from walking to the waters and she spoke of the pain of that loss. We sat just below a Sunoco gas station, that seemed to loom ironically or perfectly for the moment over the waters. The wounds that exist between mother-daughter, even in the most loving of relationships, were present due to a recent disagreement. And then there we were with the waters we came to honor as the gulf is one of those sacrificial places where the human activity of take-take-take has profoundly impacted it’s ecosystem. For me, it’s difficult to swim in anymore knowing how polluted it is, made ever more clear by the string of massive chemical plant after massive chemical plant we drove by via the backroads from Houston. I could feel the loss of the not-a-care-in-the-world innocence of my childhood plunging joyfully in the waters. I worry about the species who call this place home, and the many migrating birds and beings that come through here. We shared stories of the place, for my mom in her elder years it was very much about memories at every life stage leading up to this moment. We talked of the healing of the saltwater for the scraped up knees of childhood that we both could relate to. I wandered the coastline and was happy that despite the throngs of people there was very little garbage. The direct experience of pollution was more the loud booming trucks cruising the road above (seawall), and the diesel truck that pulled up right in front of us to pick up a some sort of trailer on the beach. We sat there with it, and bore witness to that moment, and unavoidably, the fumes. Eventually I made my way to some seaweed, looked for garbage and driftwood, brought along my “travel Ukrainian flag” that is often with me in ceremony, and made a RadJoy bird. We stayed much longer than we planned, as my mom loved it so much to be there despite or perhaps because of her growing lack of mobility. I was moved by several people coming up to us to help get my hobbling mom to the car. The sun set, the pelicans flew over, a seagull dropped in to steal a cheez-it. It was a good day.
Why this Place?
Galveston, Texas
The gulf is always under threat from oil spills, nearby chemical plants, agricultural run off/pollution from human activities, development and loss of habitat. I loved this place as a child…… as an adult it’s hard to imagine how it could ever be cleaned up and become a healthy habitat again.
Act of Beauty
The RadJoy bird is always a joy to create. I felt a bit like the child at the beach, playing in the sand…. I thanked these waters for all they give and all they have meant to my family, as well as all the people and families now walking the shores. So many memories in the sand. I felt a healing between my mother and I as we shared memories of going to the beach at different phases of her life, of our lives. I asked her to find beauty via each of the senses since she could not walk around. She shared how much she always loved the feel of the sea air, watching the whitecaps of the waves and looking for shapes in the clouds. Witnessing, sharing, presence, creating. The Global Earth Exchange is always a reminder that we can do this practice of finding and making beauty at any time we are present with the wounds of the world.
Additional Photos
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