Redominatelife

More Beaches , Mountains — and Life

I’ve realized something simple but honest about myself: I’ve been to more beaches than I’ve explored mountains. Not because I planned it that way, but because life kept placing me near water. Maybe it’s the breeze, the sound, or the easy access. Maybe it’s just that beaches are everywhere, and mountains require a different kind of journey. Either way, standing on sand has been a more familiar experience to me than standing above the clouds.

But lately, I’ve been thinking about the natural part each one plays in life — water and mountains — and what those differences say about the ways we experience our own days.


At the Beach: I Can’t Swim, But I Always Think

I don’t swim,swim.And yet, whenever I’m at a beach, I always find myself thinking deeply. Maybe it’s the way a mass body of water stretches endlessly. Maybe it’s the mystery of everything living beneath the surface — from small shells to massive, unseen creatures. The ocean holds life, movement, and stories older than anything I can imagine.

Water teaches me something powerful:
It can hold you or it can move you.
It can be calm one moment and fierce the next.
It can carry life, shape land, and still stay in constant motion.

Whenever I stand at the shoreline, I don’t feel the fear of not knowing how to swim — I feel the respect. The quiet understanding that life is bigger, deeper, and more connected than I sometimes notice. Even without entering the water, it still finds a way to speak to me.

On a Mountain: A Different Kind of Silence

Mountains are different. They require effort. They ask you to climb, pace yourself, breathe differently. And in return, they give you perspective that can’t be bought.

A mountain gives:

A top view — the kind of angle that rearranges your worries.

A close sky — where the clouds feel touchable and somehow friendlier.

A below view — a reminder of how much exists outside your thoughts.


Standing on a peak, looking down at a city or a stretch of nature, creates a kind of memory that stamps itself into your mind. It’s not loud like the ocean. It’s not moving every second. Instead, it’s still, firm, almost like time itself pauses for your view.

If the beach makes me reflect, the mountain makes me rise

Water shows me movement.
Mountains show me height.
Both show me life.

The beach reminds me that life flows — sometimes calm, sometimes wild, always moving.
The mountain reminds me that life elevates — sometimes slowly, sometimes steeply, but always giving a new view if you keep going.

I may have visited more beaches than mountains, but both places have shaped how I see my days. One teaches me the depth of things unseen. The other teaches me the beauty of things above. And together, they remind me that life is not meant to be experienced from only one level — but from all the natural angles it offers.

Until the next shore… or the next summit.