I left the house at 10:30 this morning. It takes me a while to get out of my Capo Beach neighborhood. It’s trash day and most of the streets in my neighborhood are either one-way or so narrow that they are “effectively” one-way. So if you get stuck behind a garbage truck, you have to trail them until you get to a spot with enough shoulder room that allows you to pass.

It’s partly cloudy skies and it’s looking like the dial is inching closer to sunny.

When I get to the parking lot, there is just a tiny bit of texture on the water. No Catalina view today - it’s obscured by a layer of low clouds on the edge of the horizon.

I’m heading down the stairs and the air feels a little coolish but not too bad.

When I get to the beach, it look like the sand is continuing it’s journey back to shore from last months retreat. There is definitely more sand today than Wednesday. I don’t see any boulder patches today. When I stash my backpack, instead of climbing a couple rocks up and then tossing it upwards, I can set it down at head level now and it’s in the same spot. Eventually it will be at thigh to waist level.

Walking out in the water, there is no more ditch at all. There remans just a sort of rolling floor with several minor dips and its all sand.

I take the dive and begin to swim. One thing has not changed - still freaking cold. I anticipate this sort of shock and awe campaign that the temperature assaults me with and I watch as it moves over and through me. It’s like my epidermis has been woken from a slumber. It is alive. I note the difference of sensations in my upper torso versus my legs and feet. My head, chest, upper back and upper arms seem to be the most affected.

I just keep swimming. Like Wednesday, things settle after about 5 to 10 minutes and the electric current gives way to a warm hum. This is very much a welcome transition.

About two thirds of the way down the beach, the water suddenly gets bouncy and stays that way for the rest of the swim. The wind has been forecasted to puff up around lunch time and it looks like it is right on schedule.

Soon it is time to turn around and head north. I’m still in that inner warm zone. I try to focus on where the cold is taking me right now this moment and not where it could possibly take me later. I traverse this sort of roller coaster of my nervous system. I move from a frazzled state of “of this is cold…oh the water keeps getting into my mouth…oh I still have a ways to go” to a relaxed state of “I am here right now…the water is jumbly…the cold is all around me…I am ok…I am moving forward…the ocean sustains me.”

I just need this next stroke of my arm to rise above the water. The one after that will happen later.

Every few minutes I raise my head and scope the Salt Creek lifeguard tower and make any necessary corrections to my trajectory. Every time it looks closer. The nearby bathroom structure is unrecognizable for a while. Then I see it as a distant, brown spec. Then it just looks far. Then it is well defined but still far off. Then it looks a ways a way but it is approaching steadily. Then it really is not that far at all. Then it is close. Then it feels like I am practically there and I am gauging just how parallel I am to its edge. Then it seems like I might just be slightly past it. Time to turn around.

I am thinking of Amida Buddha - the buddha of Infinite Light revered in the Pure Land school of Buddhism. I find this arm of Buddhism fascinating. I guess I find them all fascinating but we don’t really hear nearly as much about Pure Land Buddhism here in the West although it is definitely practiced. In the states, one is much more likely to come into contact with Zen or Vipassana or Tibetan Buddhism. However, in the far East, Pure Land Buddhism is much more popular and is sort of the Buddhism of the common people whereas Zen or the more contemplative schools are much more exclusive to the “full time” monastics.

Earlier this week I was reading an article in Tricycle Magazine, an American Buddhist Magazine I subscribe to, interviewing a woman in the UK, Satya Robyn, who runs a Pure Land temple. What I find interesting about this form of Buddhist faith is how closely it resembles Christianity in some aspects. While Zen is practically atheistic and does not have a devotional expression, Pure Land is all about devotion to Amida. Upon death, the Pure Land Buddhist believes that they will reside in the “Pure Land,” a sort of heaven like place where they will be direct disciples of Amida Buddha who will train the Buddhist to achieve enlightenment at which point they will return to help the living.

Pure Land Buddhism possesses an emphasis on grace and a relationship with a loving supernatural entity. It is a path available to individuals of all levels of class and piety. The worst of sinners can be admitted to Amida’s buddha-fields. The primary practice of the Pure Land Buddhist is the chanting of the “nembutsu” which reads “Namu Amida Bu.” Reciting this alone allows one to receive the unconditional love and acceptance of Amida.

As I read the interview with Satya Robyn, I just could not help but feel the love of the same Christ we cherish in Christianity in this Buddhist figure. As I read this interview and am now reading a book by Ms. Robyn Coming Home, I just can’t help but resonate with her sense of being held by this belief. She strikes me as someone who holds her beliefs loosely. I don’t get the sense that she has strong opinions on what Amida looks like or how the flowers are arranged in the Pure Land. She does not seem bogged down by the details - by how many times you need to recite the nembutsu or how you need to conduct yourself. I am loving her book because I feel like it is just as much a Christian book as it is Buddhist. Her voice and tone have the same qualities that draw me as my favorite Christian authors. They have an absolute faith in the the love of the divine and express such a sincere devotion to its human-like form. They are not obsessed with the details but they are committed to relationship and intimacy with their savior.

In the interview of Satya Robyn, she is asked why a “modern” individual would want to follow this path of chanting the nembutsu to be reborn into the Pure Land? A big part of me wants her to give a modern, rationalistic answer. I want her to say, “well…we don’t really believe this stuff but…” Yet I am moved by the simplicity of her response. She talks at some length at how through these practices, we are accepted exactly as we are and there is no prerequisite action we have to take. In her response, this is all about finding a connection to love that one can’t help but detect. Her faith comes across as solid and strong. While it may be held loosely, I don’t sense it is easily severed.

I reflect on her faith and the faith of others and find that it strengthens my own faith. I’m also re-reading the Bhagavad Gita, the classical Hindu scripture containing the dialog between the warrior Arjuna and Krishna the divine Avatar of the creator God Vishnu. I won’t go into detail here but again, as Krishna speaks in this text, I can’t help but hear Jesus. Finally I reflect on the Hawaiian concept of Aloha. We think of this as “hello” and “goodbye” but it really holds the meaning of love, compassion and kindness. A couple of weeks ago I was watching Waterman, a documentary about the famous Hawaiian Duke Kahanamoku. Someone was talking about Aloha and Duke’s attachment to Aloha and I just could not help but think of Jesus.

I finish the swim. There are more clouds and wind and it is colder than when I started. The beach is exquisite. I walk back to the ramp along the shore and I look to the horizon. There I can see something beyond articulation. Perhaps it is Aloha, Krishna, Amida, Jesus. Yes, I think that’s exactly what I see.