Looking for Home

I left the the house a little before 10:00. As I exit my front door, there is a decent breeze blowing but nothing at all strong or dramatic. The sky is overcast and its not looking like it wants to burn off any time soon but who knows. As I approach “down town” Capo Beach and Doheny, I scan for signs of fog because this cloud cover looks thick. There is not a lot of visibility as I look east down Del Obispo but I would not call it foggy. While the horizon does look a little fuzzy, I can see plenty far out.

Both Doheny and the Strand have a fair amount of texture in the water. The wind has shifted today to a predominately southerly flow. This is good for water temperature and looking at the buoy data early this morning, all the local buoys were at 70 or above. That doesn’t necessarily mean the the water I’ll be swimming in will be 70 but it is a good omen.

I get to the parking lot and make my way to the stairs. I watch the water in front of me and I can see it moving north - pushed by the south wind. No chop out but I can tell it’s gonna be less than smooth. I weigh the pros and cons of a south vs. north route. I’m leaning north because I’m not extremely time constrained but I’m thinking that the entire swim back could be a struggle in this current. If I take the south route, I can get the hard part over with in the first leg of the swim. I think I’m gonna go north anyways. This isn’t anything worth sweating over.

The lifeguard station still hasn’t opened and I wonder if they have adjusted their hours now that we are well into August and this makes me just a little sad. The summer goes too fast. The beach has an entirely different mood from when I was last here on Sunday. There is just a handful of people here and only one family of kids playing near the water.

Still no surf. There is a storm in the South Pacific expected to possibly send some SSE swell our way late in the work week. The impact seems TBD since the forecast goes back and forth between 2-3 and 4-6 feet. Definitely no sign of anything yet except for what the wind is pushing through.

I get in the water and it does feel a little warmer than Sunday but not significantly. After I exceed waist depth, I’m not excited to get wet but soon the inevitable comes and I take the plunge and it’s all good in about 2 seconds. I start the journey north.

I definitely feel that current on my back pushing me forward. As I breathe and look towards the horizon, I can see just the faintest hint of light blue smattered in the narrow space between the water and the clouds. I like the look of that but it is so barely visible that I wonder how much of it is my own imagination.

I keep moving and try to settle my thoughts. I’m trying to find that space between thought and no thought. I’m not so sure that no-thought exists but could be convinced otherwise. It’s a conundrum because just the intention of foregoing thought is itself a thought and creates a tension in the effort to resist thinking. I become aware of this tension and it feels like my mind is a fire that will not be extinguished. I change course and let myself roll with my thoughts in the hope of easing the tension. It’s like setting myself on a horse that I can’t control and having no idea where I am being taken to. Can I watch without participating? I don’t know and sometimes wonder if it even matters. I do know this: I don’t want to get lost in participation and forget to watch.

I keep swimming through out this inner back and forth of wrestling and not-wrestling. I watch for the beach club. I stop periodically to empty my right goggle and try not to be annoyed and fail. By the way, I was curious just what is going on with that beach club and if it was a place one can actually eat at and for how much. Apparently one can absolutely eat there as long as you are an overnight guest of the Waldorf Astoria hotel. You know, just another one of those rinky-dink establishments that line our humble coastal community. I didn’t bother looking at the menu or prices because I’m not sure I want to know the truth.

Eventually I am nearly in front of it and decide it’s time to turn around. The mood of the swim changes as I head south. It’s still totally good but there is much effort involved now and a lot of rough and tumble. My arms just feel like they are flailing wildly as I try to pull myself forward stroke by stroke. I’m continually pushed below the surface and then it feels as though I am thrown over the next wake. Only half of my breaths succeed to inhale any oxygen. It’s great. This is certainly not a pool.

The water feels warmer over the second half of the swim or maybe the last three fourths of the swim. It’s not luxurious but it really doesn’t need to be. It feels as good as I would like it to be. It’s pretty cloudy below the surface until I pass back over to the Strand side of the point. Oh and look. There is the Ritz Carlton - another one of our dingy dive hotels.

Throughout the entire second half of the swim, the sun seems to be making progress. What started off as thick overcast breaches and breaks apart and gradually collapses into a patch work of clouds. By the time I’m finishing up, there is plenty of haze in the air but it feels like a sunny day. The beach has filled in quite a bit with people over the hour and a half that I’ve been in the water. The lifeguard station is now open. The water temperature reads 65. Hmm. I don’t know. Maybe more like 66.

I thoroughly enjoy the walk back up the stairs. As I crest the very top I see a family gasping at the fact that the funicular is shut down. Apparently they either have not been here in a good while or they have read the faulty Dana Point tourist literature that pretends it is still fully functional. It is now that I learn that the “free beach shuttle” that has been running the last few weeks is deployed for this exact scenario and can take people near the shore. I assume it drives them just above the Salt creek snack shop. The shuttle is an oversized golf cart type thing that is able to negotiate the small roadway.

I get back to my car and drive off in my post-swim high. I reflect again on the tension between thinking and not thinking. I’m still reaching for the latter. I’m trying to place the feeling I have when I think about this effort to emerge from thought into some kind of pure present moment. It’s like trying to wake up from a dream. It’s like being stuck in a closet behind an endless succession of thick and heavy curtains and you know with utter certainty that there is another side to this barrier but you just can’t seem to get there. You have never been to the other side and don’t really know what it looks like but you know if you could only get there you would feel like you have made it home.