Not Empty Handed
A stellar day out in the mid to high 60’s when I leave the house at 10:15. There are basically no clouds in the sky except for way out on the western horizon which is flanked by a layer of thick low clouds. No view of Catalina today.
As I descend the stairs to the beach, there is a slight breeze but the sun feels warm. I keep wondering when I will need to start bringing down a pack with a towel and jacket. I thought I might have crossed that threshold on Monday, but these past couple days have proved very much otherwise.
It’s high tide right now. I watch the backwash slam into the oncoming waves causing them to briefly and dramatically peak on impact. A runner is waiting for the set of waves to pass so she can make it to the ramp without getting soaked.
The waves are doing their usual high tide thing where they break nearly right on the shore. I wait for the set to pass mainly because I want to be able to walk into the water without getting immediately wet even though that is exactly what is going to happen as soon as I start swimming.
That moment comes and I head out past the surf and veer south. The water feels pretty good - probably about the same as yesterday.
The water’s surface is smooth today. I raise my read in rhythm with my stroke and watch about 7 Pelicans zoom right by me just inches above the water. This is becoming a spectacle that I witness at least a few times on most swims. Each one still seems magical.
It seems like there has been less and less visibility in the water as this week progresses. I noticed in the local Dana Point Times today that they listed water visibility for Dana Point and Catalina. Data Point was 4 to 5 feet and Catalina was about 10 to 15. I wonder if it is always a lot more clear in Catalina.
I’m trying not to think of anything in particular and just let this water cleanse out my mind. My waking hours seem constantly filled with trying to shape my reality to match the ideas I have about how life works and what I want my life to look like. I don’t think that is necessarily a bad thing at all but I grapple with the chasm that exists between what I am trying or hoping to shape and what is actually emerging. The chasm is a koan. To what extent do I accept what is emerging and release my effort to change it? To what extent to I apply effort to change what is in front of me? What about the effort I expend just trying to navigate and balance these two perspectives?
I offer the chasm as an offering to the water. I open myself to whatever reciprocating gift it might submit in return if one should come at all.
I near the end of the swim and am indeed grateful for what the ocean has given me today. I do not walk away empty handed.
