This past Saturday – June 26 – I joined hands with so many other …. sad but determined …. coast lovers.

My beloved sand is Clearwater Beach – although I was represented by my family on the Jersey Shore, as well ….. Wildwood Crest – the beach of my birth.

When I arrived at my designated meeting place – in front of Frenchy’s Rockaway and The Palm Pavilion, I was greeted by two young women with a petition heading up to Washington DC.

After signing ….. I proceeded to the check-in tent for instructions. We were told to assemble our line in the sand just at the water’s edge ten minutes before noon – when lines were forming all over the world – www.handsacrossthesand.com – because a Sierra Club helicopter would be flying overhead to take our picture. We would be joining – not holding – hands for 15 minutes.

Speaking of hands, I was also asked to trace my hand on a piece of paper – create whatever message I wanted – which would also head to DC to be made into a banner that would wrap around the White House. After creating what was in my heart and prayers … I received a refreshing comlimentary iced smoothie from Java Joe’s and found shade under the pier with other peaceful activists.

Then our leader called to us from her megaphone that it was time to line up …. and off we all ran. Scrambling to get organized – giving those not participating but enjoying the beach and gulf access to either — spreading our line – looking for the helicopter – and finally settling into our mission. We even experienced a heckler …. who was not for big oil, but was so angry at BP that he felt our “hand holding” was a waste of energy against such a violation by a corporate giant.  

We joined hands holding them high every few minutes with a cheer …. wondering if we were long enough to join the southern group at Pier 60. Watching children abandon their sand castles – asking their parents, if they could join the line. I contemplated if possibly, one good thing from this disaster, could be the development of toddler activists. The woman next to my companion was in tears. She could not bear, the thought of the oil still gushing and the untold deaths of birds and marine life. There were cardboard signs of protest, voices, song, and many more tears. Then with a one minute countdown shouted to the heavens, we released hands and went on our way.

I dedicated the entire weekend to enjoying the beach where I live, play, meditate and heal. With a dear friend, I walked to Caladesi – kayaked around Moonshine Island and spent hours swimming and floating in the Gulf. We watched the sunset on the spectacular gulf and the moonrise on the intercoastal. All the while, knowing that the future of this blessing is so uncertain.

“Soul of the Gulf” –  From UnSpOILed: Writers Speak For Florida’s Coast

www.unspoiledbook.com

I do not have many clear memories of my childhood. But the one that is most vivid is of a day in September when my friend and I hauled oil-soaked ducks in our wagons from the beach in southern New Jersey to her mother’s laundry room. I had not heard my parents talk of an oil spill nor was there any environmental organization instructing citizens on what to do to save these poor creatures. It was just my friend and I trying to figure out why we could not get this oil off the feathers with laundry detergent.  As the day drew on and we grew more and more sticky with this dark coating of death, we were tasked with towing the birds back to the beach for their sad burial in the sand.

For most of the year, the waters of the Gulf of Mexico embrace the western shoreline of Florida with a calm hand. We are cupped in her protective palm until the inevitable hurricane passes into the Gulf, reminding us of the power this body of water has over the borrowed land we call home. The hurricane by whatever its name—Charlie, Wilma, Katrina—is a reminder that we cannot control or dominate nature, that we must listen, for nature always has something to say. We cannot manipulate or destroy in the name of dollars. The Gulf has a spirit that is linked to our own. Science cannot shout down justice. Policy will not replace health. Economics is not  spirituality.

I have not read any concrete evidence that drilling in the Gulf of Mexico for oil will improve our lives. With such a large number of hard-working individuals searching to better their quality of life, the probing and drilling of such an incredible body of water will only add to the helplessness of despair. We know that drilling for oil off the coast of Florida will put our sea turtles, whales, fisheries, shorebirds, and local economies at serious risk. Just as importantly, drilling would impact our sense of place. At a time when humanity is searching for hope, we need the magnificence of our natural wonders. Looking out at the sea—the Gulf of Mexico— with only clouds, a sunset, or the silhouette of a sailboat to interrupt the horizon, we see endless possibilities. With thousands of visitors sharing this experience with residents, the Gulf touches so many every day.

We calculate risks and benefits with statistics from research. But can we analyze the human spirit and how our constant quest to probe nature for economic wealth affects our mental and spiritual health?

Each time we scar nature, we scar our own souls. With every violation of an eco-system, we see the impact heading towards our own well being. Our health is directly linked to the health  of this earth and the waters that balance the elements. We cannot probe, drill, or dig without consequences. If the oil companies try to harness the energy in the Gulf of Mexico, we will see a negative impact on the energy surrounding these waters.

My body and spirit were born from the sea. Through osmosis my cells contain salt water. I am able to feel the ocean’s turbulence when it is roiling and its peace when it is still. I know that  I must live close to this life-giving element of my being. I also must speak for what gives me life,  for the waters of the Gulf of Mexico are vibrating with the terror of the possibility of this violent penetration—she would much prefer to float platforms of wind turbines.

The time has come to consider spirituality alongside science, and to consider that healthy economics means a healthy natural world and that the actions of the community are linked to our spirit. Do not drill into our soul.

-Linda Taylor