Beach

Three years ago we purchased a holiday home near Filey Bay. We go there whenever we can, and it is a great place to unwind. Our favourite walk is on the beach at Filey Bay. 

A long, winding path takes us down through the cliff, onto the sandy beach about half way along the bay. To the left over a mile away is Filey town, and beyond that the clay cliffs curl round to Filey Brig, a small rocky peninsula where breakers from the North Sea often foam the water. To the right, another mile or so, you reach the chalk cliffs of Flamborough Head, where the towering cliffs of Bemptom host huge colonies of sea birds. Our favourite morning jaunt is along the cliff tops to Hunmanby Gap, where we will have breakfast at the beach cafe and walk back along the beach.

Every walk is different. Even two walks on the same day are quite different. The tide creeps up the shallow beach to the cliffs twice a day, and recedes a couple of hundred metres or more, washing the beach clean. Sometimes the beach is quite pebbly after storms, sometimes it is a pavement of smooth sand, sometimes there are swathes of seaweed, occasionally the carcass of a seabird is deposited and one day a dolphin, half eaten by gulls, was lying on the beach. It is ever-changing. The grandchildren love the beach, even on cold wet days when we wrap them in waterproofs and take buckets and spades down to have fun. We’ve pushed prams along the beach, and walked dogs. On fine summer days the beach is full of people – paddling, flying kites, throwing frisbees, playing football and cricket. Yet it never feels overcrowded – there is always space to walk or set up pitch. We’ve never seen the beach empty, even on the wettest and windiest of days. Mid winter you will even see some people swimming. 

Our favourite walks at home never hold the same appeal. Of course the beach brings a grandeur that the local walks around Wakefield do not possess. Yet it is something in the changeability that appeals too. We never know, until we turn the final bend and step onto the beach, exactly what we will find. And therein lies a clue to why a beach walk is so refreshing and why we don’t tire of it.

In mindfulness we are invited to bring beginner’s mind to our experience. The beach invites beginner’s mind, as it constantly renews itself. It tantalises the senses, invites us to engage with the sights, sounds and smells. This connection with the senses is one element of mindfulness practice that is nourishing and healing. Norman Farb and Zindel Segal, in “Better in Every Sense”, explain that our natural response to stress is to withdraw and shutdown the senses, retreating into cycles of defensive thinking (often called rumination), that can lead to anxiety and depression. Actively reversing that shutdown by engaging our senses helps build our resilience by strengthening parts of the brain that deal with our senses. 

You don’t need a beach when you are out walking to cultivate beginner’s mind. You can consciously direct attention outward to the senses, feeling the feet on the ground as you walk, observing the landscape, feeling the air on your face, taking in the sounds. It is possible to walk completely consumed with thought, but it is also possible to interrupt that thinking, maybe taking a few moments to stand and stare. That possibility is open to us all the time if we choose to explore it – stepping consciously into the senses and directing awareness to what is around us. The more we engage with our senses, the more our natural resilience to stress grows. 

Making walking a part of your mindfulness practice can be very nourishing. If you are lucky enough to have one near, take a walk on the beach.