All Will Be Well

Ok this third week of March business is nuts. In a good way. Talking about the weather here. March can be an interesting month. My first two Marches of swimming were nearly identical where the last few days of the month turns a corner and the water temperature rises into the 60’s. It gives an entirely new meaning to Easter and resurrection. Well yesterday and today have been comfortable both in and out of the water.

Now things could totally change. Last April was a cold water disaster and this weekend there is some strong west winds and s possibility of upwelling (water cooling). So I’m trying to take advantage of every good day this week that I can while things are so pleasant. Once May rolls around, the water should definitely be warmer but we could lose our sun. Last May was totally socked in almost every day and that lasted well into June.

I wasn’t able to get out until 11:15 this morning and I had a 1:30 meeting scheduled and I knew things could be tight. Earlier in the morning we had some fog but things have burned off nicely and it was definitely starting to look like another fantastic day. A little cooler than yesterday but nice.

It’s cool as I trot down the stairs but I don’t have time to really dwell on it. I’m focused on getting into the water and getting this swim in and being home for my meeting with time to make coffee (very important). Like yesterday the beach looks spectacular: smooth ocean surface, low tide and lots and lots of glossy smooth wet sand.

Getting into the water is almost a repeat of yesterday. Surf is small and my arms are cold for a few minutes and then things stabilize. All in all it is a super beautiful swim. The early afternoon sun gives the day a fresh and even redemptive vibe. That’s a weird adjective to use but it just feels like regardless of what has happened prior to getting into the water, all will be well now. It’s just like Julian of Norwich says, “All will be well, and all will be well and all manner of things will be well.”

The water feels more smooth, more clear and overall more warm than yesterday. It’s not even 1:00 yet. If things can be this good this early in the day, maybe I can just ride on the coattails of this swim for the rest of the day.

I settle into my breath and I want it to be just my breath. I don’t want to paint some story over my breath that magically explains away every problem or lends it some kind of heroic drama. If I can melt into just my breath and nothing extra, perhaps in that place is where every answer lives because it is the whole of the question. I listen to the sound of the bubbles caused by the air flowing out of my mouth into the water. What does it sound like? What does it really sound like without trying to draw any kind of analogy? Sure it sounds like air flowing out of my mouth into the water, but what is that sound?

There is such effort in my stroke and kicking. I can feel a soreness in my quads and a tightness in my calves. Yet there is immense stillness here. Looking forward and below me is just an empty blue film that holds everything and nothing. There is nothing extra here and I don’t want to leave any kind of a mark. I come into this water with so little but everything that I need.

On the final bit of the swim, I spot that tractor that has been hanging out here the last couple weeks. I’m super curious what it is doing. It’s about halfway between the ramp and the northern bathrooms. Is it rearranging some of the large boulders that lie at the bottom of the bluff? I can’t tell but I don’t have time today to investigate. I reach the shallow water and start to walk to shore. It’s all so good. I’m hoping that I am doing ok on time. You’d think with all the bells and whistles on this camera, it could at least tell me the time. Nope.

I head up the stairs with a little extra speed than usual. Once I’m in my car, I can see I am doing good on time. I’m sitting in my meeting with coffee in my hands by 1:33 - good enough.