Exercise in Futility
Left the house a bit on the late side today - 11:15. Conditions looked to be perfect. We had a bit of cloud cover earlier in the morning but by the time I hit the road, the skies were totally clear. Yesterday did not see any noteworthy onshore winds so the water temperature is bound to be at least as warm as yesterday which was pretty much perfect. It’s August as August should be.
I arrive at the parking lot and the beach does not disappoint. However, I nearly collided with a “school bus” backing in to a parking space. This was a “van life” school bus. It looked like a school bus on the outside but was clearly outfitted with living quarters on the inside. A few years ago I saw this “documentary” on Netflix about a couple who renovated a school bus for a multi month road trip. It looked like a near 6-figure renovation and the owners were this young, bohemian stereo type couple that seemed like they were living just above the poverty level. Oh…and they looked like they were super models too.
I get to the beach and head out into the water. The water feels great. I’d say even warmer than yesterday and really no cold spots I could notice. The visibility has been down both yesterday and today but it is a little clearer today than yesterday.
Throughout the entire swim I am focusing on my exhale and concentrating on what is right in front of me. The warm water and sunny conditions don’t give me much reason to want to change what is in front of me, but the mind does love to wander.
These last several days of struggling to figure out what God, Jesus and the general nature of the cosmos is seems like an exercise in futility. If my mind can just arrive at some silence perhaps it can make space for something to emerge that I am totally unaware of.
All of the nit picking of what some set of words that have been translated centuries ago and copied hundreds of times by different scribes in different communities with different agendas feels like I’m missing the point.
So I kick, I breath, I gaze at the water stretching out to the horizon, I lift my arms and propel myself forward…forward…forward. I feel the water, I taste it, I touch the kelp rising from the ocean floor, I hear the nearby birds. I watch the head of a seal about 20 feet west swimming in the opposite direction…wait…what?!
I stop and look back and the seal (or Sea Lion - I’ll never know) is gone gone gone.
This I believe: my mind might be confused and the more I try to figure out the logistics, it will just be more confused, but my heart knows. I think every heart knows. Most have heard the term “inviting Jesus into your heart.” How do you even do that if your heart is closed. Maybe Jesus is stuck inside - standing at the door - knocking.
I’m swimming here and setting the intention to open my heart wider. Maybe just a little bit. Then tomorrow I’ll try for more.
