No morning meetings today so I am out of here a little before 6:00 and in the parking lot at 6:10. The sky is darkly overcast and the edge of the horizon where the water meets the sky is soft as one side of the edge bleeds into the other. I can spot the North Star buoy way out there. It looks lonely.

The water appears to be pretty smooth from up here. The southern breeze is still pretty light - about 4 knots - and I’m happy to be here before it rachets up later this morning. The forecast says it should be more calm than yesterday, not that yesterday was bad at all.

I’m looking forward to getting into the water. It is a little cool here outside as I walk down the stairs, but I know I will be warmer once I am swimming. One of the Camp Pendleton buoys is up a degree this morning to 66. San Pedro has been at 68 for the past two days. Nice.

The water looks so smooth and the color blends in so perfectly with the color of the air that the white water from breaking waves looks like it appears from out of nowhere.

At the bottom of the stairs I turn the corner onto the asphalt road and can see the northern end of the beach. There is a lone surfer sitting in an odd spot. It is well north of the main break and also looks quite a bit further out than the edge of the white water. Is that a surfer? It’s still not very light and I don’t have my glasses on so it just looks like a dark splotch on the water but I’m pretty sure it’s a surfer. After I get closer and I am on the shore, I can see it is definitely a surfer but I have not seen them actually surf.

The surf is small but well shaped in these clean conditions. As the surf reports often say, “there looks to be a few good corners to chase down with the right expectations.” The water feels pleasant on my feet. It looks like that surfer is directly in line with my takeoff spot. I try to walk a ways past but I’m still pretty close. That surfer must be thinking, “really? We have the whole beach to ourselves and this guy decides to come out right here?” What can I say, I’m a creature of habit and it pains me to enter the water elsewhere.

As I pass the surfer on my way southwest I say hi. The surfer sounds like he (or maybe she) is about 10 and also sounds kind of sad. I wish them a good morning and head on my way.

The water feels pretty great, it is such a pure and smooth light blue. I see loose strands of seaweed floating randomly on the water. I watch the shore and houses slide on by as I make my way further and further south.

I’m trying to let go of everything out here in the water. I want to let my agendas and ambitions fall away. I don’t feel like I am having much success with getting anywhere on my own efforts and I can only wonder how misguided these efforts are. Maybe I just need to surrender the effort and see where life’s currents lead me. No better place to practice that intention than here in the ocean.

I’m tangled up in ambiguity - in the tension that seems to exist between surrender and responsibility. To what extent do I let everything go and release my desire to control my destiny and to what extent do I take responsibility for my own fate, plot a course and act? I sense there is some subtle “both/and” lesson to be learned here that I am far from mastering. I feel like the answer is to surrender absolutely everything and to take responsibility, set goals, and give them all I have. I’m inclined to believe there is a razor’s edge here to be found. I’ll keep looking.

No ambiguity here in the ocean. I give everything to my stroking and kicking and breathing and navigating and somehow every swim ends right where it begins just as they are all meant to. Regardless of pleasant and calm conditions like we have today or strong and choppy currents, high surf or cold water.

I turn around at the southern end and look north onto the coastal hills shrouded in a light mist. Actually this entire beach feels shrouded in something but I am not sure what - not mist - but it is as though there is something dampening the energy and stimuli here and like sunglasses on a bright day it is a soothing damper.

Speaking of sunglasses, I’m thinking I need a second pair of untinted goggles for days or mornings like these. It is already so dim and after putting on the goggles, I feel like I am wearing some kind of night vision eyewear that hides all the details.

The entire swim is pretty wonderful. At one point half way up the beach on the north bound leg, I stop and just take in the sight and, even more so, the sound of the beach. It feels so deliciously lonely right here. The sound of the waves are a constant rumble. There is always a wave breaking somewhere along this beach. I feel like it has something to say to me or anyone who will listen. It’s in a language none of us speak but we can all know.

I eventually finish up and linger for just a couple minutes at the edge of the surf to play in the waves. I head up the stairs and say hi to the Jehovah’s Witnesses sitting at the top.