Tides of the Heart: Art4Healing and My Emotional Day

Laguna Beach has a way of stealing your heart the very moment you see the coastline. It is a place of endless sunshine, dramatic cliffs, and pristine waters that make you feel instantly alive. There is a beautiful myth about living here, though. We are told that salt air cures everything. People think the horizon automatically fixes your perspective. We assume coastal residents live in a permanent state of zen.

But today, I woke up to a different reality. Every coastal local learns this eventually. Sorrow and heaviness do not care about your location. They do not vanish just because your view is beautiful.

Today was a heavy, emotional day. Living in paradise does not shield you from being human. Sometimes, the contrast makes it harder. A beautiful environment can make internal darkness feel even louder.

Pushing Past the “Shoulds”

When you feel down in a beautiful place, a toxic voice creeps in. It starts telling you what you should be doing.

  • “You should be outside soaking up the sun.”

  • “You should be grateful for this location.”

  • “You should go look at the water to feel better.”

I tried to listen to that voice at first. I planned to force myself out of the house to visit my three absolute favorite Laguna Beaches.

These beaches usually bring me immense joy and pleasure.

Aerial drone view of Shaws Cove in Laguna Beach, showing the crescent-shaped sandy shoreline, turquoise ocean water, and coastal homes sitting on the rocky bluffs above.
Aerial drone view of Shaws Cove in Laguna Beach, showing the crescent-shaped sandy shoreline, turquoise ocean water, and coastal homes sitting on the rocky bluffs above.

1. Shaw’s Cove: The Underwater Eden

Usually, I love going to Shaw’s Cove when I need a distraction. This tiny beach sits at the base of a 58-step staircase. It is a true paradise. People consider it the best snorkeling and scuba diving spot in Southern California.

The marine life here thrives. The cove falls within a protected State Marine Conservation Area. Naturally shielded from massive swells, the water stays calm and clear. It acts like a window into another world.

  • What to look for: Swim out toward the massive rock reef structures. You will glide over rich eelgrass and vibrant purple sea urchins.

  • Keep your eyes peeled for: Look for the bright neon-orange Garibaldi. Watch for hidden octopuses and the occasional curious harbor seal.

An overlook view of Woods Cove in Laguna Beach, featuring stone steps leading down to a secluded sandy cove with turquoise ocean waves rolling onto the shore, framed by rugged coastal rocks.
One of my favorite beaches is Woods Cove in Laguna Beach.

2. Woods Cove: Rugged Beauty & Hidden Blowholes

I head straight to Woods Cove when I want an intimate vibe. Towering cliffs frame this beautiful beach. It features dramatic, dark rock formations.

Locals love this spot to escape the crowds. You can sunbathe on the sand or explore deep tide pools.

  • The Highlight: Watch for the famous Woods Cove Blowhole. You can safely explore the craggy reef at low tide. When the tide turns, water surges through natural rocky tunnels. It erupts into beautiful, salty sprays.

  • Local Tip: Always check the tide charts before you go. High tide eats up most of the sandy beach very quickly.

A scenic paved walking path winding along green oceanfront cliffs at the Montage Resort in Laguna Beach, lined with tall palm trees and overlooking a sandy beach and the ocean below.
Love walking this path at the Montage Resort as it brings me great joy and healing.

3. A Walk at the Montage: Treasure Island Park

The public pathway surrounding the Montage Resort is my ultimate sanctuary. The trails wind directly through Treasure Island Park. This perfectly manicured paradise sits high on the ocean bluffs.

The property blends seamless resort landscaping with raw Southern California beauty. Paved, handicap-accessible paths frame stunning lookouts. Public benches sit nestled among native agaves and palm trees.

I stepped outside today for a fresh salad by the beach and a walk in the ocean breeze. Though I couldn’t make it to iconic Arch Rock, however I did walk across the street to Heisler Park, which was a true treat.

But the summer sun felt incredibly hot today. The tide was also exceptionally high. I watched strong waves push massive blankets of kelp onto the shore.

The heat and wild tide quickly drained my battery. My physical energy dropped completely. My motivation went to absolute zero.

Instead of fighting it, I decided to head back inside. Forcing a tired body to keep pushing does not heal you. The ocean is not going anywhere. The bluffs at the Montage will be there tomorrow. Right now, the real healing is not waiting on a hot walking trail. It is waiting right here in my quiet room.

The Social Media Mirage and the Reality of Grief

Social media feeds are filled with toxic optimism. Everyone only talks about the joy of life. We post the highlights, the sun-drenched beaches, and the smiles. But a beautiful feed is often a mirage.

The truth is, I am alone today. Today, I feel the loss of my fiancé very deeply. Grief does not care about a beautiful location. It does not disappear because you live near the ocean. It waits in the shadows. Some days, the tears just flow. Sadness takes over completely.

Last night added a layer to this heavy weekend. A friend desired to visit me. But a hockey game went into overtime. Because of that, he decided it was too late to visit me.

I felt dismissed. Today became an emotional day for me because of how it happened. To an outsider, it may seem like a minor thing. However, to me, it is nice when a friend keeps their word; when you are already navigating grief, broken promises hit differently.

But I realize now that he does not have the capacity to give right now. Perhaps he cannot give to himself either. You cannot draw water from an empty well.

That realization brought me face-to-face with a hard reality. I felt like I had to go through this heavy day entirely alone.

Then, I remembered the “The Let Them Theory” by Mel Robbins. It was the exact reminder I needed.

If people choose to prioritize a game, break their word, or decide it is too late, let them.

Let them make their choices. You cannot control them. You cannot force them to see your pain or match your depth. Trying to change their capacity only drains your limited energy.

Instead, save that energy for yourself. Let them do what they do. Let me take care of me. Once I accepted that, the loneliness shifted. It became a sacred space for my own healing.

Why Energy Drops on Heavy Days

Our culture is obsessed with constant productivity. We want to fix every bad mood instantly. But human beings are cyclical creatures. The ocean has high tides and low tides. Our bodies have the exact same patterns.

When your energy drops and tears come, your body is protecting you. It pulls its resources inward. Processing deep grief requires immense internal bandwidth. If you force yourself to be active, you steal that healing energy.

I recognized that today was a day for isolation. A physical hug would have been beautiful. Yet, I had to navigate this stretch alone. Maybe another nap is in order today. That is perfectly okay. Once I accepted the tiredness and embraced the “let them” mindset, the shame dissolved. It is okay to need rest.

Step One: Writing to Release

Because my energy is low, I am moving my internal landscape instead of my body. I reached for my notebook and started writing.

Writing is an incredible form of medicine. It acts as a container for mental chaos. During emotional waves, thoughts do not move in straight lines. They bounce around like trapped pinballs. Leaving them inside your head creates immense pressure.

Writing is a physical extraction. Moving your hand puts words on a page, making invisible heaviness, grief, and disappointment tangible. You give emotions a safe home outside your body. Writing actively helps me process things today.

Writing does not require answers. It simply requires honesty.

I forgot the structure today and just felt like writing away. I let the pen drag the heaviness into the light—writing about feeling low, missing my fiancé, and the disappointment of last night.  Slowly, the pages filled up, and the tight knot in my heart began to loosen up.   Writing created a vital space around my pain.  I am feeling very grateful.

Step Two: Painting to Heal

Writing works wonders for organizing thoughts. But writing still relies on language. The deepest parts of our emotional brains do not speak in words. Sometimes, feelings are too complex for the dictionary.

That is why I love the Art4Healing® method.

I actually facilitate Art4Healing® classes for others. I help students use expressionism to process deep emotions. Yet today, I needed to be my own student. I needed to step onto the canvas for myself.

Therapeutic art is not about perfect replication. I am not trying to paint a realistic view of Woods Cove. The canvas is not a gallery piece. The canvas is a mirror.

The Art4Healing® process operates on a unique cognitive frequency. Bypassing the logical left brain, it taps directly into your intuitive right brain. It never asks you to explain your pain or justify your grief—it simply presents a palette of colors.

Here is the pressure-free framework we use to heal:

1. Forget the Landscape

Do not try to paint an actual scene. Do not paint a specific object. A recognizable item wakes up your inner critic. We commit to absolute abstraction. You are painting a feeling, not a feature.

2. Use Color as Vocabulary

Look at your paints without overthinking. You might feel drawn to deep violet for grief, chaotic charcoal for anger, or soft grey for exhaustion. In my classes, we let these colors be your raw language. Mix them directly on the canvas and let them bleed together naturally.

3. Focus on the Sensation

Moving paint is incredibly grounding when energy is low. Pay attention to the texture pressing against the canvas. Focus entirely on the physical rhythm. Your body physically discharges emotional energy through each stroke.

Riding Out the Tide

Honoring my low energy today, I released my thoughts through writing and meditation. In doing this, I am transforming a heavy day into a sacred one.

Perhaps you are reading this from a dark place yourself. I want to extend a hand across the digital void.

I am learning to stop demanding happiness. Instead, I allowed myself to feel the loneliness and all my emotions today. It was a truly healing day.

Wrap yourself in a warm blanket. Grab a plain notebook. Pick up a paintbrush. Permit yourself to quietly ride out the tide.

If you want to learn how to express your feelings through color, join an upcoming class. We can sit with the heavy tides together.

Until then, the light will return. Your energy will flow back. The beautiful ocean will be waiting whenever you are ready.

Today’s meditation helped profoundly. Grieving is heavy and isolating, which is why group spaces are so powerful. The Oneness prayer group and meditation through Ekam are massive pillars of support for me.

Meditation and community have truly become my anchors.

I’m so grateful for my Space for Grace Zoom meditation group. I can’t wait for 6:40 a.m. to log on, connect with this supportive virtual circle, and center myself for the day.  This daily meditation practice takes place daily during the week.

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