Water is my escape; my ‘all-encompassing-room’ of warmth, security, peace, solitude, and free thinking. So why is it that the ocean holds such a vast unknown to me? It is scary, enormously exciting and challenging, yet arouses fearfulness; it holds a depth of crazy abandonment of security, a dark and wild mental process that I can’t capture; and an astonishing sentiment of respect.
I’ve swam in all forms of water, alone, all my life; except the ocean. I love swimming at night; I love the warmth and the coldness under the stars in the rain; the thunder and clouds showing their aggression through the moonlight. The peaceful contentment of the darkness and listening to the water gently move with the movement of the earth.
Swimming alone in the ocean had a grip on me. Time to let it go. And I finally did.
Bait fish darting in and out of my anxiously treading legs; turtles waiting afar on their offspring to hatch, bobbing up and down occasionally for air. A dolphin pair playing in the dwarf and gentle waves and the pelicans flying so close I could feel their breeze. I swam. I let it go and trusted the feeling of the cold salty water carrying me to the depth of insecurity I have not felt before. It was incredible. It was invigorating and life changing. A feeling of complete abandonment yet exulting! Swimming alone, no one else within sight in a season of shark feeding and warnings galore, made me realize how many firsts there are yet as I live my fifty-first year. Too many to count, but not enough to only imagine the breadth of opportunities that are there to seek. What is next for me? What is next for you?