Giving Back

I was not intending to swim today. I’ve swam three consecutive days already and have some high priority work that really needs my focus today. However I’m looking at the week’s forecast, and today looks like one of the better days - not that the others are particularly terrible. It’s still dark out and I’m not ready to make any decisions yet but if I can get this one work “thing” done sooner than later then maybe I can make it to the beach. To symbolize my openness to play this by ear, I choose not to put on either swim trunks or running shorts. I just put on the shorts I was wearing yesterday - I’m certainly not going to prance about in my underwear all morning.

My most important work item goes more smoothly than I anticipated. I’m ready to go to the beach just a little after 9:00. It’s a pretty easy decision as to whether or not to swim. The day is beautiful. It’s basically perfect. Sunny, warm, and little wind. The web cam looks like a view into paradise. It just wouldn’t be right not to swim today.

I drive to the beach and I look out onto the water from the top of Selva Road and I see, water, water, and more water. There are clouds out on the horizon hiding Catalina but it is all blue sky here.

I park and get out of the car and can immediately feel the warmth on my skin. The ocean surface looks smooth. Everything I see in front of me explains to me that this is why people like it here. It is nice to look out onto a vast expanse of natural beauty clear of strip malls or concrete of any kind.

When I get to the beach, everything the webcam showed me earlier is confirmed. This is paradise. It’s just amazing. The tide is low. The sand is golden and it looks like a truck has driven the length of the beach and raked the sand. It is like a freshly groomed cross-country ski trail. The sand feels so soft and fluffy on my feet. I am surprised at how few people are here. It is Monday and Spring Break is long gone, but I look up and down the beach and see no one in the water. How can this be? It is perfect. It is smooth and gentle and this lovely shade of blue. There really should be laws against having so few people in the water under such perfect conditions. There must be an enforceable minimum. Somebody please go to RH Dana Elementary and gather up the honor roll winners and bring them here.

As I walk out into the water, I just can hardly believe how delightful this is. The water here is so clear and I watch the sandy bottom beneath this glass-like water. I eventually let myself fall forward and start to swim south. The water temperature is delightful. It’s been about the same the last few days - around 65 - and it’s just super nice. Things were not nearly so warm last April.

I swim all the way to the south end of the beach and I just try to take in all of this delightfulness around me. The sun, the water, the ocean floor - it all sits here and absorbs each other’s positive energy and then radiates it outwards via some kind of time released delivery system. Half way down the beach, I stop to make sure I am still alive and have not inadvertently passed on to some heavenly after life. I take a look around and I’m not sure I can tell for sure. I see this dark bulbous shape emerge from the water. It’s the head of a Sea Lion. It remains motionless and stares at me. I say hi and it looks curious but then moves on its way.

When I get to the end of the beach, the large rock where I usually turn around stands tall above the water in this low tide. Since the water is so calm, I swim very close and just watch it because it seems like a cool thing to watch. This proves to be exactly the case. There are a few surfers inshore of me. Are those the RH Dana honor students? I swim around this immediate area for a few minutes and then start to swim back north.

My mind seems caught in a dream that it can’t escape. It’s not a bad dream, but I just can’t seem to focus on what is right in front of me. These shades and shadows summon memories, hopes, and fears that all weave and wander in and out of one another. My identity feels like it exists in the liminal spaces between just as fluid as this water.

I swim this beach year round. I experience so many moods and vibes here - so different but all good. In the midst of these many swims, there are some gems. Today is one of them. Now, I still stand by what I said a week ago last Sunday about that stormy, scary swim being my favorite of the year. However, these relaxed, sunny swims are precious in a very different way. That stormy water ignited every pore and synapse. I emerged from that swim with a fullness that reminded me just how alive I was - very. This swim is healing and restorative. Whatever that stormy swim took from me (and I was happy to give it), this swim gives it back.