A New Chapter

I debate whether to swim this morning or not. The big surf is gone but so is the beach - or so I hear. I have not actually been to the beach since tropical swell Marie hit. So I am not sure how to parse the Facebook comments and separate exaggeration and hyperbole from reality. Well I figure I might as well check it out for myself.

It's an early start. I leave just after first light at about 10 minutes after 6:00. I have the day off so I can take care of my son while his mom takes care of some personal business; so I need to be back fairly early. I’m hoping to get back by 8:00. I park and head down the stairs and wonder what it is I am going to see when I get to the bottom. Will there be any sand at all? Just how accessible will the water be? I’m not sure but the surf seems small enough so that regardless of the beach situation, I should be able to manage alright.

I finally reach the end of the concrete and nothing I see really surprises me. Basically no sand except at the very north end of the beach. Nothing between here and my usual takeoff spot. There is some exposed “beach” right here in front of the concrete. What beach there is is comprised of small to medium sized rocks. Just about 20 feet up the beach, the waves are breaking right into the rock wall that borders the bluff. The tide is only about 2.5 right now and will be even higher when I finish. This could get interesting.

As I walk, a small wave slams down on me and pushes me into the rocks. Was this a good idea? I figure the sooner I get into the water and avoid this mayhem, the better. So I walk a few steps in and then slouch forward and start to swim (or at least assume a horizontal posture) in this one foot of water. Whatever it takes to glide me past this small surf.

I swim out about 50 feet and pass a couple surfers. It is beautiful out here. Past the drama of the shore, I am able to appreciate the splendor before me. The sun has not yet risen over the bluff behind me. The sky is a blend of rich blue and soft pink. The clouds are like pieces of art that someone decided to put up for display. The water is smooth and the coast is under the shade of the bluff up and down the “beach.” It is so amazing. I just love a sunrise swim. I expect to see that sun top over the cliffs in about a half hour and I know it is going to be incredible.

I swim south. It is hard to see because of the lack of light above the water and lack of visibility below. I expected this. As I have been walking above the bluff for the past several days, the inshore water has been a disturbing shade of greyish brown. I’m trying not to think about this but I know that it is likely the same today given the fact that I can hardly see my arms in front of me. Still, if I pause and soak in the view above the ocean surface, things are undeniably beautiful. So beautiful.

I didn’t meditate before my swim today. I was so tired when I got up at 4:30 that I knew I would just sleep through meditation; so I plan to let this swim be my meditation practice today. I let my thoughts go on the water like a fleet of toy sail boats. Each one drifts seemingly aimlessly in their own direction. My mind sits steady on the surface as my eyes move both above and below the surface.

I am swimming into a new chapter of my life. It is wonderful and exciting and unnsettling all at the same time. My heart knows the way forward and is drawn to this path I am walking. My mind is not always so sure. The rhythm of my life changes in this chapter. I notice how I think I have to maintain the old rhythm in order to stay afloat. I worry that if I deviate from the rituals and routines that have served me in this chapter that is closing, I will sink. I inquire of my higher and best self. It tells me that these worries simply are not true. It tells me to trust. I need to follow my heart to find a new rhythm. It may get a little wobbly for a while. There might be some fits and starts, but eventually things will settle and I will be lead along this new path in my journey. It will be good. I don’t need to try so hard. I do need to try, but that is all. Just try and try again and then again and my trust will gain confidence and my effort will lead me to outcomes that will lead to other outcomes and eventually a new life will blossom.

So I have to find this edge that exists between trying and trying too hard. It lies on the border of effort and surrender. I sense it is about finding my highest and best self and trusting that self will find itself just where it needs to be. Where will that be? I want to obsess over the details and all the specifics. Then I realize I just don’t need to and suddenly it is clear that it’s a lot easier to move forward if I drop the burden of obsession.

My swim is coming to a close. I’m wondering how the beach has changed over this past hour of swimming. It has indeed changed. The question is, “how much?” As I get close to my finishing spot it becomes clear that today, it is not a good finishing spot. I basically need to get myself as close to the concrete ramp that leads to the stairs as I possibly can. I usually try to avoid this because of rocks but the tide is so high that the water will put me above the more treacherous rocks. The challenge will be that final transition from water to shore to concrete ramp.

As I get closer, I wonder if this was a good idea. It doesn’t matter now. Mistakes may have been made but now I have to navigate the consequences. So I get myself just beyond that concrete ramp. I swim towards shore with some small waves and they dump me on a bed of small rocks. I start to stand and move towards the ramp but get sucked back out towards the surf. I relax my body and let myself ride this current and then the next wave pushes me a little further and I am positioned to run to the ramp. I do this and make it just in time. Well that was exciting!