
Santa Catalina is a small surfing village on the Pacific Coast of Panama, about 6 hours’ drive from Panama City. Because of its proximity to the equator, Santa Catalina’s spring tides — the tidal extremes around new and full moons — are especially dramatic.
At low tide, the beach extends for several hundred yards; at the highest of high tides, the beach completely disappears. At one part of the beach, what is typically a little stream to cross from one side to another became a river that requires a rowboat to cross.
It was during my time in Santa Catalina that I discovered one of my favorite activities: exploring the beach or shoreline at low tide.
As I walked deep down into the beach at low tide, I was awed by the thought that I was standing on the ocean floor.
My favorite park in the village of Larchmont, about 25 miles north of New York City, offers a similar experience, albeit on the rocky shoreline of the Long Island Sound rather than the sandy beach of the Pacific Ocean.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve been visiting it regularly with “tourist eyes,” through all phases of the lunar cycle and all phases of its tides.
High Tide vs Low Tide Energy
High Tide = Flow
At high tide, the water laps upon the shore with a rhythm that matches the pulse of life. High tide is bustling with activity; it draws the energy of surfers, rowers, and sailors.
High tide energy is engaging. It’s things coming to you. It’s noisy. High tide makes everything easier. It raises standards.
High tide is flow.
Low Tide = Hidden Realms
Low tide is a completely different landscape. The water is receding. It’s softer. Quieter.
But low tide is perhaps even more spectacular — and more inspiring.
Low tide reveals new layers of what you can see and experience in the same place.
Tide pools. Channels carved by the water. Rocks that cause the waves to break. Seaweed, algae, barnacles, crabs, and clams and other organisms.
Low tide exposes the magical and mystical ecosystems that are typically hidden by the water.
When I explore a beach or shoreline at low tide, I feel like I’m being let in on a mystical secret: a glimpse into hidden ecosystems and communities.
It’s peek behind the “curtain” of water; a reveal of how things work beneath the surface.
Low tide reminds us: something can be true even if we can’t see it. There’s always something happening beneath the surface.
When I return to a place at high tide, I see the seascape differently: I know what’s hiding beneath the surface.
It’s like I’m in on the secret.
The Magic of the Cycle
We live in a culture that generally favors “high tide” energy. We praise the extravert who goes after what they want. We want ease in achieving goals, and we strive for flow states.
But low tide has a magic that should not be overlooked. The quieter moments when life feels like its receding from us expose the inner workings of the systems that are often hidden beneath the surface.
If we are attuned to these moments, we can see the nuances that we miss in high tide moments.
Neither is “better” or “worse” — one only exists by virtue of the other.
When caught up in the swell of high tide, low tide comes to remind us that not everything is as it seems. There are worlds hidden from our view.
But if we pay attention to the low tide moments, we can get in on the secrets that are otherwise out of reach.
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