I didn’t become a Parrothead until college. My friend Rob incessantly played Jimmy Buffett while we were on spring break in Daytona. The more popular songs were fine, but I got hooked on some of the less popular songs.
One that particularly hooked me was “When the Coast is Clear.” It’s especially meaningful to me now that I live near the coast:
They’re closin’ down the hangout
The air is turnin’ cool
They’re shuttin’ off the superslide
The kids are back in school
Sure, the cool mornings breathe a hint of autumn, but just driving up the highway yesterday was a more overt reminder that tourist season has winded down. No traffic backups with cars stuffed with beach chairs, bikes, and boogie boards. Just the locals.
Call me somewhat antisocial, but it’s nice to return to the quiet, “before the circus came to town.” I know the businesses will miss the tourist profit, but I won’t miss the noise.
It’s sort of the same way with our lives. We have seasons in our lives. We have moments when we’re thriving. We’re in a state of go-go-go. We get into a rhythm and flow easily. We might not notice it, but our bodies, minds, and spirits can get exhausted.
That’s when things might seem out of sync. Think about that for a moment. We tend to welcome Memorial Day weekend with a sense of anxious anticipation—warm days, long nights, lots of time outside. By August, we’re done with the excessive heat (even hotter thanks to greenhouse gases). We’re ready for the kids to go back to school. We’re ready to return to a sense of normal. We’re ready to come home to ourselves:
Hello, Mister Other Me, it’s been a long, long time…
This is our more contemplative nature. The Cloud of Unknowing describes most of us on the contemplative path as higher active-lower contemplative. In other words, we’re tuned into the seasons where our lives might be more active yet welcome the seasons when we return to the stillness and beauty of contemplation.
I come down and talk to me when the coast is clear
I don’t know about you, but I’m going to welcome the cool, crisp mornings. I looked up at the stars this morning and thanked God for the exhilarating breath in my lungs. Hopefully, with these deeper breaths and the cooler air, I can maybe have a little more clarity, now that the coast is clear.