It’s another overcast morning in Dana Point as I leave for the beach at 7:30.

I get to the parking lot and head down the stairs. As I pass the bathrooms below and start down the asphalt, someone passes me up carrying a small cooler and wearing a backpack that has fins attached. I recognize this as the signature mark of a jr. lifeguard. I’m wondering if this is the opening day for the season.

I see someone in the water. He is not a swimmer. I guess I would call him a frolicker? He is just swimming around and playing in the waves. Not a bad idea. In fact, why are there not more?

The tide is low - probably half a foot. At first the surf seems very small. Then I see a much larger wave breaking in the distance at Salt Creek and then a set of larger waves comes right where I am at. They are not huge - probably head high - but larger than I have seen the last few days.

When I set down my pack, I see that my rock with the smashed Velella is gone. I don’t think that Velella got up and walked away.

I head out to the water and another one of those larger sets comes in and I just wait out the two or three waves until things calm down. Then it’s a smooth swim out past the white water.

The water might be just a touch warmer than yesterday. It mostly feels so warm that I just don’t give the temperature a thought. The surface is nice and smooth.

I swim south and I feel the rolling of the water move under me - sometimes pushing me forward, sometimes holding me back.

My mind is in a funk this morning and I am trying to relax it in hopes that things will shift into a more favorable position. Just a case of the Mondays and flustered by the fact that there just doesn’t seem to be an end in sight to them. I feel pretty confident another will show up 7 days from now. Mother fuckers.

I keep thinking about my post from yesterday. The thing is these posts are supposed to be self therapy, but I am ruminating on the whole truth thing and fearing that my stories are holding me back more than helping me forward. I’m haunted by an adolescent theme of “what does it all mean?” Then I chastise myself for being overly dramatic and accuse myself of making up lies. Hmm, that's not working.

The water reminds me that the best thing to do when I get all panicky like this is just to calm down and keep moving forward. Move through the surf with confidence, feel and recognize the stress that comes my way but just keep swimming and eventually I’ll find myself on the shore and glad that I passed through what I passed through.

The last couple days, I feel lots of stray seaweed debris in the water. Sea grass gets caught in my fingers as they hit the water and then they are released as my hand moves below me. I see small vines floating here and there. Sometimes I’ll move into a large cluster of seaweed leaves on vines still attached to the floor. A larger cluster can practically stop me and I need to pause and swim around or push the kelp beneath me to make progress.

As I near the bathrooms at the northern end of my swim, I see a bunch of tents propped up on the shore. Yep, this is definitely the first week of jr. lifeguards. I see one or two new buoys out as well but lack the motivation to see their names. I’ll have all summer for that.

I head to shore and it is free and clear until I get to my feet and then another larger set comes in and I have to brace myself to keep from getting knocked over.

There are dozens of kids walking on the beach towards the jr. lifeguard tents. I also see several parents accompanying them. Maybe that is customary on the first day for an orientation.

I grab my stuff and head up the stairs. I can’t say I am cured of my Mondays funk but I can say I’m in a better place than I was when coming down the stairs.