CLXII (162) The Lake

Whenever I am told to think of an emotionally charged place,

The first place that pops into my mind is the lake.

As an actor, as a writer,

We are often given these types of prompts.

In fact, as I’m writing this,

I’m in a memoir writing workshop that I’m co-facilitating with a great storyteller who is mentoring me, to be a teaching artist for older adults.

The Prompt:

Think of a place that you have happy or sad memories.

So, the lake.

Lake Washington, Seattle.

On its shores, Mount Baker Beach, Seward Park, Sayer’s Pit, Rainier Beach, Leschi and many other spots all along the west side of the lake.

Heartbreaks, first loves, lifeguard training, boating, Seafair (hydroplane races),

But mostly just beautiful sights and memories.

Salmon hatch in fresh water, go out to sea,

And then return upstream to complete the cycle of life and start the process over.

I’m drawn to the lake.

Seattle is my hometown,

But the lake is the magical place for me.

It’s like it always had a deep anchoring quality to it.

It’s heartbreakingly beautiful.

It’s my special place.

Sacred.

Tranquil.

Loving.

Magical.

No place like it.

Water is always healing for me.

But no place like the lake.

I’m drawn to it.

No matter what I do when I’m visiting Seattle,

I find my way to the lake.

The lake covers a big portion of the Eastside of Seattle,

Put otherwise, Seattle is on the Westside of the lake.

The East Side is Mercer Island, Bellevue and Redmond/Kirkland.

I still don’t know the difference, Redmond/Kirkland.

The West of Seattle is The Puget Sound,

Part of the Salish Sea, and inlet of the Pacific Ocean.

The Olympic Mountains are to the West of the Sound.

But to the East, Lake Washington and the Cascade Mountain Range.

It’s the lake and the Cascades for me.

Good times.

Bad times.

Everything in between.

I once put a fish hook in my own head,

Trying to teach my brother how to cast a reel at Mount Baker beach.

Good times.

Painful at the time.

But when I realized I wasn’t gonna die.

Funny.

Time heals all things.

The lake restores me.

Seattle is not what it was,

But the lake maintains its beauty.

Heartbreaks and love go hand in hand to me.

The deep beauty.

The humor of it all.

Those memories are a part of me.

I don’t know why people don’t spend all their time at the lake.

I should go there more in my mind.

Just thinking about it centers me,

Similar to how the ocean humbles me,

It reminds me of who I am,

Not who I’m trying to be.

“You don’t have to try so hard.”

Just be.

Like the lake.