No Science Here

It’s an overcast day today but thankfully no fog. I leave the house at about 10:45 and it’s not really looking like things will clear up anytime soon.

As I pass Doheny, the water looks super bumpy and I start to brace for a rough ride.

When I arrive at the Strand, it does not look like any progress has been made in the sunshine department. I see a few little hazy blue splotches out there. It would not be entirely unreasonable to think things could burn off over the swim but I’m not going to attach myself to that outcome.

Clouds or no clouds. The air feels good and I am confident the water will be warm.

When I get down to the beach, I notice that the purple flag (dangerous marine life) is back up and wonder if there has been any more Sea Lion incidents. I decide I’ll ask the lifeguard after the swim and not before so as not to contaminate my thoughts. We don’t need no stink’n think’n out there in the water if you know what I mean.

It’s cloudy, it’s a little breezy and my instinct tells me the water should be cold but man it does feel pleasant on my feet.

When I start to make my way out into the water, it’s not exactly a sauna out here but the initial coolness response is very much subdued today.

The water is clear. I see the ridges of sand on the ocean floor very clearly. The water is a deep and vibrant blue. And WARM. I mean it is genuinely nice. There is no other way to put it. We could be approaching 70 today - seriously. The lifeguard station still says 64. I don’t know what’s going on there but I am quickly losing confidence in their numbers. All I can say is that this is not 64 degrees.

The water is super bumpy. This is the most resistance I have swam through in weeks. As I head south I am definitely moving against the current. I wonder how I could be making any forward progress. Every stroke feels like a fight. Yet as I gaze at the shore, little by little, I see the houses pass and I eventually get to the south end of the beach.

I turn around and the tone of the swim makes a pleasant change to a much softer and forgiving ride. Did I mention how great the water feels?

I just let go of my thoughts and open up to receive the gift this water is giving me.

Last Sunday at church, the pastor said something that bothered me - nothing out of the ordinary there. I really don’t fault the pastor, I admit I tend to be on the sensitive side when it comes to sermons. He is continuing his series on Paul’s letter to the Romans and talking about salvation by grace instead of works - all good so far. Then he says that if you look at all of the worlds religions, Christianity is the only one that provides salvation through grace alone. All of the other religions are subject to a salvation (or whatever that religion calls salvation) via works.

Upon hearing this my mind starts to race and I want to build my case and itemize everything that is wrong about what he said.

On the one hand I totally get where this comes from. Look at the most popular Eastern religions of Hinduism and Buddhism and you have the law of karma which is all about how one reaps the consequences of your actions, but there is a lot of nuance here. I also have to admit that something that I find most endearing about Christianity is its emphasis on grace. I think it is present in the other religions but it is front and center to the person of Christ.

Anyways, Sunday and Monday I am turning the pastor’s statement over and over in my head. I am crafting my rebuttal that I will likely never ever give to him or anyone else in my church. Then it hits me, this is a total waste of my time and energy. This thought process is working stronger against me than for me. It’s just like today’s southbound swim.

I’m just drawing lines in the sand. I’m trying to paint the boundaries and borders as I see them that separate his world view from mine. I’m arguing over the trim and texture we affix to the edifices we construct to match the images we nurture of the great by and by. I’m wrestling with shadows and boxing with a reflection I glimpse on the water and just splashing like a kind of crazy person.

So I decide to just stop. Even if my arguments stands sound, I’m going to cease my work on them. Why? Because it doesn’t matter. None of it really matters. These arguments don’t settle anything and they never will. I’m convinced that long after I am dead, these arguments will continue. Even if they could find resolution, any said resolution would fall far short of the “salvation” we all claim to seek or proclaim.

I find myself drawn in by the words, “it doesn’t matter.” All week I have been meditating on that phrase and I find a space in between the words where all of our imaginary lines vanish like smoke in the wind. I am drawn to this space and it offers rest. In this space, gravity gives way and the world makes sense as it fits into the complexity I see in front of me. This phrase stands against what I can only imagine does matter but cannot articulate. I am somehow able to meet what does make sense as I face and release this inverse perspective.

As I swim north I roll over the thought of how my argument with Sunday’s statement does not matter. The space that it puts me in finds consistency with the flow of the wind swell against my back side.

I’m sensing a growing intensity of sunlight here as I near the northern end of the beach. However, as far as I can tell the sun still has not penetrated this marine layer.

I see several Calico Bass swimming in the kelp forests. I usually do not see them so clearly.

I soon wrap up the swim and make my way back to the stairs.

I make a stop at the lifeguard station and ask about the Sea Lions. The lifeguard says he has not heard of any adverse activity lately. Then I ask the big question I have been dying to ask: where to you get the water temperature readings? “Oh I just make it up. I’ve been here long enough that I have a good idea of what it should be. Today I just copied the same temperature from yesterday.”

Suddenly I sense a veil has been pierced that I would now like to mend. Ladies and gentlemen, there is no science here. These 6’s and 4’s and what not may as well be some kind of hieroglyphic art work. I want to unhear his words but it’s too late. I have about as much respect for these numbers now as the numbers themselves have for the water. None. I feel like there must be a governing body I can appeal to. Are there any “accredited” lifeguard entities with temperature readings one can certify? I struggle for answers to these questions.

But not too much! It just doesn’t matter.