Church at the beach always looks different. Just like my life constantly shifts, so does the beach itself. When I first moved to Long Beach in September 2023, I took my daily walks to the beach which quickly morphed into what I something I now call church. For the first time, I feel like I discovered church. Well, what church is supposed to be, at least.
I’ve attended church my entire life. It’s a staple, religious experience that I had every intention of passing on to my kids, too. Then, when I needed my church family most, they turned their backs on me. This didn’t happen just once; it happened over and over again. So, Mr. Sexy and I decided to walk away, though only for a while.
We found new friends eventually, still trying to maintain our Christian morals and values as best we could. Through camping trips and late nights drinking beer over board-games, those friends became like family to me. I thought we had a healthy friendship. However, a toxic undercurrent existed, too, and I knew it. I just didn’t want to admit it. Our friendship did go out as quickly as it started and for a time, I felt lonely and abandoned by them. Only recently did I realize the true nature of their intentions in befriending us. That story, friend, is for a different blog post.
By the end of that friendship, years had gone by since we tried going back to church. Mr. Sexy and I still valued our Christian religion, though, and we felt a pull to give church one last try. So, we went back to the church where he and I used to both go. We figured if this church didn’t work out, we would never go back to another church again.
And guess what?
That church didn’t work out, and it’s a delicious story I will tell one day soon.
Some good things happened during our last church experience, though. For instance, we met the best pastor either of us have ever had and made some good friends who vibed with us a bit on church politics. In the end, though, Mr. Sexy and I both said goodbye to the organization of church.
Now that I didn’t have the obligation of church anymore, my deconstruction journey really took off. The questions I’d been asking for a few years became more and more clear in their answers. Without religion, I could think more clearly. Think for myself. For the first time in my adult life, I started asking myself, “What do I believe in? What do I want to believe in? What if there could be more than one right answer?”
Because I made walking a priority every day, it was an easy transition to lace up my walking shoes and head down to church at the beach every morning. I didn’t call it church yet, though. I didn’t know church could be whatever I needed it to be, whatever I wanted it to be.
During my first weeks in my new apartment on the beach, I developed a ritual that I absolutely loved. I woke up with the sun, grabbed my earbuds, and went straight down to the beach path for a brisk 30-minute walk while listening to my favorite podcast. Then I would take the beach back, this time listening to a curated playlist I made.
As I went on these early morning walks every day, some might even say religiously, I developed a sense of safety walking next to the ocean with powerful music playing in my ears. That safety allowed me to cry, dance, skip, stretch, and cry some more.
Then I began to play with the ocean as I went on these walks. Sometimes we would play a game of how close I could get to the water without her touching me. She almost got me a few times, but at the time of writing this, I’m still the winner in our little game.
I started calling this ritual church because every day I attend, I experience something that feels spiritual. At the beginning, I expressed a lot of release and my job was to just show up and listen. Listen to the songs I put in my ears, listen to the ocean in the background, listen to my breath, to the wind, and listen as I let out years of pent-up emotions.
For me, church on the beach became a relationship. By taking back this word and creating my own entity from it, I feel kind of like I’m finally in the driver’s seat of my own spirituality. I get to decide whether I believe in aliens, Buddha, or God. Or all of the above! Because why not?
