NATURAL PERSPECTIVES -- Vic Leipzig and Lou Murray

The people of Huntington Beach are blessed with a marvelous local

resource for relaxation and spiritual renewal. I’m not talking about some

health spa or religious retreat. I’m referring to Huntington Central

Park, a place to heal the body and renew the soul.

You may have noticed that our column didn’t appear from October

through December. Normally Vic and I work together on our columns, one of

us writing and the other editing, but Vic has been busy with his new job

as executive director of Orange Coast Watch, a nonprofit group dedicated

to halting the pollution of Orange County’s beaches. He hasn’t had time

to write the column by himself, and I’ve been unable to work because I

injured my back in an auto accident in early October.

We live close to Huntington Central Park, and prior to October I

enjoyed hikes there several times a month. The accident put a halt to

that.

Most of my October was spent in pain. I spent November recovering from

a severe allergic reaction called anaphylactic shock. I was hospitalized

after taking a drug that my doctor prescribed for inflammation.

The pain from my back injury was isolating. It cut me off from work

and hobbies. I hurt too much to go to the movies or out to lunch, and I

didn’t care to see my friends. My world looked limited and bleak.

Then time began to heal my torn ligaments and physical therapy began

to strengthen my ripped muscles. I was able to resume my walks in the

park, which became my main contact with the outside world. At first, I

could only walk a mile or two, a fraction of my normal rambles. The first

time I tried to extend my walk as far as the Shipley Nature Center my

back rebelled. I remember gingerly lowering myself onto one of the many

benches scattered throughout the park. Thoroughly discouraged, I wondered

if I would ever again have a day free of pain.

Then I experienced one of those rare mystical moments when magic seems

to be in the air. The winds picked up and a few huge dry leaves floated

off the sycamores. As I watched the slow dance of leaves twirling toward

the ground, my pain lifted enabling me to continue my walk home.

On my walks, which became part of my regular therapy, I noticed the

many ways in which people enjoy the park. Diners at The Park Bench and

Alice’s Breakfast in the Park allow people to chat over burgers and

cinnamon buns. Families spread picnics on tables and lawns. Couples walk

the pathways hand in hand, and children squeal as they jump and tumble

over playground equipment. Young men shout, “Dude!” to one another as

they play disc golf. People jog, ride bikes and watch birds.

As I extended my hikes to the west side of the park, I stopped to

enjoy the wild abandon of dogs romping in the Bark Park. The whinnies of

horses at the Equestrian Center floated on the breeze as I rested on the

bench by the lake.

Over the weeks, I watched the leaves fall from the trees, the grass

turn brown and sere, and the flocks of winter birds gather.

The rains came. As the lakes filled with water, the skies filled with

the calls of mallards, coots, gulls and geese. Tree frogs croaked an

early chorus to spring. Still I walked. Some days I paused in a grove of

twisted sycamores to practice Tai Chi breathing. Suspend from the sky;

root to the earth. Breathe in healing and peace; breathe out pain and

sorrow. Slowly my back got better.

I now walk a six-mile loop through the park. I’ve resumed many of my

normal activities, but most of my day is still devoted to various forms

of therapeutic exercise followed by a hot bath or an ice pack. Although

my back is knotted and achy most evenings, I’m no longer in constant

pain. Gradually, my body is recovering, and so is my soul. Within our

parks lies the power to heal.

* VIC LEIPZIG and LOU MURRAY are Huntington Beach residents and

environmentalists. They can be reached at o7 vicleipzig@aol.comf7 .