Philip Liebman
ALPS Leadership June 10, 2023
Long Beach Island, New Jersey
The Sea Shore of New Jersey is still quiet and nearly empty mid-week in early June. And the beaches are mostly undisturbed by the grooming that prepares the sand each morning for the crowds during the busy summer months. It’s a wonderful time to find quiet and near solitude and to look for shark teeth.
I find the exploration to be an exquisitely mindful exercise, as the wind and surf are like a constant rhythmic white noise in the background, the salt air smells clean and fresh, and the sand is littered with millions of tiny shells and shell fragments.
The gentle final push of waves as they reach the point that they begin their retreat leave behinds ribbons of these artifacts from the sea. You can walk for miles tracing the tight swaths of the remnants of sea life scattered about the shoreline. Mostly the debris is chalky white with pale pink, blue, and brown variations, or else black as coal. But with further inspection, there is a palette of subtle pastels and a few vibrantly colored shells that are truly breathtaking.
My son collects things like shark teeth and reminded my wife and me that this was a perfect opportunity to hunt for these elusive treasures. Most you might find on the beach are tiny and would tumble ashore with the clutter of fragments that stretched out for as far as the eye could see. Combing the sand with our eyes as we walked for hours, it becomes clear that finding even a single one might be unlikely. But the way the shore fills the senses, the hunt gives purpose to forging onwards and noticing tiny objects that I would surely otherwise overlook. Anything like this would prove tedious, but the hunt for sharks’ teeth is fun and relaxing.
To my mind’s eye, these bits of shell take on a life of their own, speaking to the infinite mysteries of the sea and the unfathomable number of living creatures that live there. The fragments and broken shells that litter the sand become pieces of a puzzle. Rather than bemoan their imperfection compared to the pristine, fully intact shells that we generally collect, they become a mosaic of random designs that speak to the beauty found in the mathematically derived Fibonacci Sequences that present themselves throughout all of nature. Something oddly organized in the random scattering makes the scene enticing to the eyes. The subtle variations of color draw you in for closer inspection, and there you find these extraordinary, tiny surprises: shells so small that it’s hard to imagine that they housed life that could exist in the cold turbulence of the tides. And perhaps this is the reason why these fragile tiny shells and shattered shell pieces shells are deposited here for us. They remind me that life, too, is fragile and lives are easily shattered.
m scattering makes the scene enticing to the eyes. The subtle variations of color draw you in for closer inspection, and there you find these extraordinary, tiny surprises: shells so small that it’s hard to imagine that they housed life that could exist in the cold turbulence of the tides. And perhaps this is the reason why these fragile tiny shells and shattered shell pieces shells are deposited here for us. They remind me that life, too, is fragile and lives are easily shattered.
Some people look for shark teeth methodically. They sift the sand and tiny shells like prospectors pan for gold. But we just walked and gazed mostly downward and traversed the beach following the lines of shell deposits, grabbing a few beautiful specimens that begged to be shared. Time and distance move quickly, and the lack of success and the feeling that any step further might produce a tiny “T” shaped treasure kept us moving forward until finally, we turn around and repeat the process in reverse as we head back to our beach chairs.
In all these hours, we never found a single tooth. I think that my normal limited patience would have worn thin quickly if we had been nearly anywhere else or doing something different. But the beach seems to help us be the best version of ourselves together – and perhaps as individuals. Especially when the beach is quiet and nearly deserted, and the sunlight begins to fade. My patience increases as the light and crowds diminish, and our sense that the day is done is welcomed as if our tasks were somehow complete. It’s an odd sense of accomplishment, given the fact that nothing of notable importance is achieved. But as I have grown older, I have learned that mindfulness is one of the greatest things I can accomplish in life. Slowing down is not due to exhaustion but determination, awareness, and intention.
Like the small collection of shells and pieces that we carry home as souvenirs, I try to also take home the sense of peaceful joy that transforms me on these days at the shore. Somehow, like these things still make the best sense to me in the natural setting from which they were taken, my mind loses the connection to the sand between my toes, and my thoughts flow back into my mind like the tides coming in. So we go back over and over again, adding to our collection of shells and of memories formed in the wondrous days spent idling by the ocean.
that we carry home as souvenirs, I try to also take home the sense of peaceful joy that transforms me on these days at the shore. Somehow, like these things still make the best sense to me in the natural setting from which they were taken, my mind loses the connection to the sand between my toes, and my thoughts flow back into my mind like the tides coming in. So we go back over and over again, adding to our collection of shells and of memories formed in the wondrous days spent idling by the ocean.
