I live in one of the best places in the world for ocean swimming. Western Australia has some of the largest, sandiest stretches of calm coastline that are a swimmer’s or beach-goer’s dream. And for the last twenty years I haven’t really made the most of it. In the last few years I’ve spent a bit more time at the beach, a quick dip in the water and a much longer lounge around on the sand, soaking up the warm rays like a lizard.
I used to be the child who was afraid of the tiniest fishes, who would squeal and squeak if something touched my feet (to be completely honest I probably still do this). But recently I started training swimming again and met a group of people who regularly (almost everyday) go into the ocean and actually swim.
They go out to depths I am not used to, and they see sting rays, dolphins, all kinds of fish and jellyfish. They swim properly, at least 1.5km with many choosing to swim double that or more. They use goggles, without snorkels, constantly turning their heads to breathe. Face down in depths unknown. I guess what I am trying to emphasise here is the lack of fear, or the comfort with fear.
They aren’t anxiously scanning the depths for what might be around them, they are turning their heads in time with their breathing pattern and focusing on the swim.
I’ve been out with them twice now, last Saturday and this morning. Saturday seems to be the day at which, I am available for the swim and there is guaranteed to be a group going down. It is going to be a regular commitment of mine to join the group on a Saturday morning.
Both swims have been nerve wracking and exhilarating. The first was filled with fish and sea plants and varying depths to the water. At one point I recall thinking “this is exactly like my dreams”.
I’ve dreamt vividly and realistically of the ocean and under the sea since I was a child. It never struck me as unusual to dream so much of something I’d never seen in person until now. Could my dreams have been prophetic in some way? Could they have been a clue leading me to the mysteries of the deep?
I feel lately, with rejoining swim training, getting my swim teachers licence and venturing into the sea to swim that I am finally on the right path in my life. Suddenly everything feels different. My life feels exciting again, I’m genuinely interested in everything I’m doing. I’m nervous but I’m not letting that stop me. I feel a chapter has closed and a new one is beginning. I’m doing things differently. Things are changing because I have changed.
I’m no longer repeating the same patterns, I refuse to return to the known. The jobs I’ve worked before and hated, the ways of being that feel safe and comfortable but that I already know aren’t totally fulfilling. I’m finally risking trying something different.
What better metaphor for facing the unknown than swimming in the ocean? This morning as I swam I noticed that turning my head to breathe in one direction had me facing the shore, shallower waters and familiarity. Breathing to the other side had me gazing into the deep, where water got thicker, murkier, less visible, both less known and less knowable. I realised I was swimming along that edge, one side safe and known, the other new and unknown and I relished in it.
It's such a gift when we can engage in an activity that also serves as, as you say, a "metaphor" for what's going on more generally in our life. For a while, while I was getting ready to quit a job, my runs would be a daily reminder that even though I was tired and desperate for things to end, that every run eventually finishes as long as you just focus on the step at hand.