Group Hypnosis

Left the house at about 6:25. Skies are overcast but it seems like you can see just the faintest tint of blue in these clouds. Perhaps it won’t be long before the sun can break through this thin membrane and claim victory over this dim and dreary pale.

As I approach the beach on the final stretch of PCH just before Selva, I can see a small blue hole in the clouds just above where I imagine the beach to be. Ahh hope.

As I walk down the stairs I see more sunlight breaching the clouds further north and closer to the horizon. It is warm here. I might not feel that glowing sensation of direct sunlight, but the air feels like it matches my body temperature and this descent is very comfortable.

Crossing the threshold from the concrete ramp to the sand, I notice the abundance of sand. The Jupiter rock and its asteroid-like companion are nearly covered as well as the stair railing that runs along the cliff-side end of the ramp.

There are just a couple surfers out here at the Strand and I can see a pretty good sized pack out past the point at Salt Creek. The surf report this morning says size is down but it looks up just a tad from yesterday. The water is smoother today giving the waves better shape.

I wait for a couple of small waves to break and roll past my waist. The water feels pretty perfect. I walk a few steps out and then dive under a wave just before it breaks and now I’m a different person than I was just moments before.

Even in this warm 70-72 degree water, there is still an initial cool sensation just after immersion but that feeling passes pretty darn quick and gives way to a very pleasant refreshing state.

Just like yesterday, there are a couple patches where things get a little cooler but not cold and a couple spots where the water feels down right warm. Once you are in the patch, warm or cold, it is what it is but it is in the transition where your body truly feels the dynamic of the temperature in the water. This can be true even when the water is in the 50’s. Passing from 57 to 59 degrees can feel very pleasant.

Those mid to high 50 temps feel a world away today. I want to cherish these 70’s for as long as I can.

I am swimming north today just to mix things up a bit. I don’t have time to go all the way to the Monarch cliffs but I plan to turn around at the bathrooms just below the golf coarse.

The water has about the same visibility as it had yesterday - not much. With the cloud cover, the water is dark but as usual it gives off a good vibe. This water covers me like a blanket.

I aim for the end of Monarch point which seems like it should lead a path past the outer surf break just north of the lifeguard tower. For some reason, when I start the swim heading north, once I initially make it past the surf line, I tend to drift inland and I need to correct westward.

I eventually get to the surf break and I’m probably just 20 feet past the surfers waiting for the next set. Their eyes look transfixed on the horizon. It’s like a sort of group hypnosis has fallen onto this crowd and they have become oblivious to all stimulus other than the rising and falling of the ocean surface. Once a rise rolls in that matches the primordial pattern locked into their ancient limbic brains (what you and I call a “wave”), their hypnosis vanishes and is replaced by a one-pointed drive to merge with that wave. For a moment, nothing else matters. Fall off that surfboard and the whole of reality comes crashing back in and the surfer is mortal once again.

I continue northward. Soon something pops into my port side peripheral vision. At first I think it is one of those solo fishing contraptions where the fisherperson stands on a platform (I think it’s a platform?). No that’s not it. Oh. It’s a small motor boat just about 20 feet from me.

I wave because if anyone is looking over it just feels like we are close enough where waving is the polite thing to do. One thing about swimming is that you really can’t hear that well past the splashing and breathing of your body. Then again, maybe I am just a loud splasher and breather. Someone could be yelling at you from a boat or surfboard and I don’t think I would hear them. So I just assume that someone on that boat is being friendly and shouting “Arrr. Well hello there matey!” I don’t want to be rude and ignore them.

Soon I am just past my designated bathrooms and it is time to turn around. I don’t want to turn around. I’d really like to just keep swimming. Has it really been a half hour? How could it have been?

It definitely does not seem to be getting any sunnier here. In fact, it feels cloudier and darker than when I started. Well the water is warm and smooth and I can hear the sound of the birds chirping overhead so it is all good here.

I am swimming south now and I enjoy the view of the shore. I have only swam north of the lifeguard tower a handful of times now so this view still has a newness to it that makes it extra interesting to look at.

I see another swimmer as I cross Salt Creek point. We both stop and say hi. I recognize him as part of the group I see most Sunday mornings. He comments on how perfect the water is this morning and I acknowledge the truth of that statement. He mentions how bumpy it was on Friday - yep, also true. He continues north and I continue south.

I still have some residual ickiness lingering in my mind this morning. It’s not the dark blue and purple cloud that it was yesterday though. It’s thankfully lighter and holds less palpable viscosity. I still can’t put it to words.

I look ahead of me, under the water and focus on the light that breaks through the surface and illuminates the top layer of the water that moves and rolls with the oncoming movement of my head. The water looks like folding light blemished with the bubbles on the surface. I anchor my thoughts with what I feel down deep to be true. I have this belief that things will end well. While this belief usually seems ot be surrounded by sensations of impending doom, I have this ground of knowingness that those sensations are mostly false. If I can just make my way onto this ground and see things from its rooted vantage point.

I fall into a mantra that I recite over and over, “what do I know to be true.” I know this truth is inside of me and it is all around me and inside of everything else. I believe we are all born with the capacity to believe everything we need to have freedom. This belief is telling me that there is a force that is guiding me. It will get me to the shore sooner or later. It doesn’t mean that bad things won’t happen or that I won’t get scarred along the way. But there is a shore and the shore is good.

So I point myself to the shore and I keep moving my arms and legs and soon I am walking on the sand and ascending the stairs and it is all good.

When I get back to my car and read the timestamps on my pictures, it looks like I was out for an our and ten minutes confirming that it had indeed been at least a half hour journey to those Salt Creek bathrooms. Well you had me fooled. Today’s swim just seemed to fly by.