If You See Something, Say Something

Ok we have another multi-swim post here. I’m not entirely sure how happy I am with this new format. Not having to write a post after every swim certainly buys me hours of time. I like the fact that I can focus my attention on things that truly need my focus and it’s also nice letting myself enjoy the privilege of a swim even if I know I won’t have time to do the post. However, I get a lot of value from writing these. I hope others do too but mainly this is my way of connecting to something greater than myself. I consider these posts an extension of my swims and a means of preserving the essence of what the water intended me to know and feel.

It’s been a great week of swims. The water has consistently been about 73 degrees and waves have been very manageable. We had some larger surf in the beginning of the week but not that large. Fortunately not large enough to cause any major setbacks in the sand levels at the beach. I wasn’t sure if a swim on Sunday would be in the cards. However, when I woke up at Tracey’s and looked at the surf from her balcony just south of north beach in San Clemente, things looked pretty calm.

Both surf and tide were high enough to make getting in the water a little more “exciting” than usual. Waves were crashing right into the rocks that you have to climb down to get to the beach. Oh…and there was no beach. I had to time it just right and I managed to achieve my objective: getting out past the surf unharmed. One of the surfers says to me “exciting entry?” I responded with an emphatic “yes.”

Well it was well worth entering. The marine layer of clouds were clearing and before long at all the sky was clear and sunny. It felt great. I swam to the pier and back. Lots of people fishing off the side so I decided to keep a little distance, maybe 30 feet, and not actually touch it. Besides that would be gross.

When it was time to get out. The tide had come down a bit and making my way back to the beach trail on the other side of the railroad tracks seemed less perilous than it was getting in earlier. I walk into Tracey’s condo and I just feel filled with good vibes and I am excited to share those vibes with her. We have coffee together which is a somewhat rare and delightful treat.

I skip Monday and Tuesday and come back to my home beach at Strands on Wednesday. This is a mid-afternoon swim which I don’t often do. I am just so delighted to be in the water after not being able to make it on Tuesday or earlier on Wednesday! By the time I am walking down the stairs to the beach, I can hardly wait to get wet. It is warm and the sun is shining bright. Mid-afternoon light does not always capture well in photos but it hits my heart at just the right angle and proves to be exactly what I need.

Yesterday (Thursday) I managed to get to the water a little earlier - about 10:00. The biggest surprise is how much more sand there is than just a day before! The beach was below the concrete ramp on Wednesday afternoon and now it is almost to the top. How did that happen? The tide is high and there is very little beach, but the floor is soft and fluffy. I love it. Clouds are prevalent but they are departing rapidly. I swim north to the Monarch Bay Beach Club and by the time I get there, it is a perfectly blue sky.

I have been having some extreme parenting challenges the last couple weeks. Actually, I have been having them my entire life but am beginning to realize that I have to address these weaknesses and commit to doing better. This basically involves engaging in conflict or at least standing in the face of it. I HATE this, but I have to learn to do it. This is extremely frightening for me to think about and I have been thinking a lot about it this week.

Something I have noticed here is that I have been feeling this feeling in my body. It has become a familiar and recognizable sensation. It’s the same sensation I had for years when thinking about my marriage and feeling that I did not want to be in it but not knowing how to get out and feeling like dealing with the pain of separation would be too much to bear so I would stuff this feeling super deep under this rug inside of me that I cannot consciously see. However I could still feel it. Then one day I left because I reached a point where I had no choice. When I left, I suddenly understood that feeling was trying to tell me something all along and when I finally listened, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was doing the right thing.

For years I have been parenting my kids in a way that never felt right to me. I was turning a blind eye to things that felt utterly backwards. I was hoping this would all just blow over. The only thing blowing over is the people involved. I don’t know what the right thing to do or say is. I overthink all the possible outcomes. I envision how my words will land on my kids and ex-wife and so I say nothing. I do nothing. I just try to muscle through this part of my life and pretend the problems will just go away. I realize I have to say something. I have to do something. I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all, but it feels like the right thing to do.

So as I swim and make my way back south to where I started, I begin to realize that maybe this all does not have to be as frightening as I think it is. As situations arise and I find myself stuck and struggling with what to do or say, just lean into what I feel is right and follow the actions and words that I think want to be done or said. Maybe I’ll make some mistakes. I am sure that I will, but I think those will be part of inching my way forward which is better than staying where I am. Somehow here in the water, I feel like I have some assurance that everything will be ok.

Today I am out before 7:00. I see the 7:00 swim crew gathering themselves in the parking lot. I decide to walk over, say hi, and ask a very practical question that I am sure they will know the answer to. The question is how to manage this new swim buoy I have in larger surf. Lately the surf has been small but when the buoy gets caught by a breaking wave, it is carried toward shore and it carries me with it. If the pull is so strong from a smaller wave, what will happen with a large wave? The answer is to inflate the buoy after swimming past the surf or not to bring the buoy at all. Well ok there you have it. I am tempted to stay and ask for some parenting advice but I don’t want to push my luck.

As I look out towards the horizon from the beach, I can see the thick marine layer hanging out several hundred feet offshore. It’s pink from the light of the sun that has not quite risen over the bluff yet. I swim south and I watch the sun slowly rise and then when I get close to the headlands, it falls back behind the cliff again and I return to shade.

I turn around and head back north and then pause as I glide back into the direct light of the sun which transforms the sky and the surface of the water. As I am looking at all of this, I see a Tern flying inland and it’s white body catches the sun and I take a photo and as my head follows it towards the shore, I spot a flock of Pelicans that are just east of me super close and are flying south. Then I see a pair of Cormorants to my west and also super close. It feels like everything is happening all at once. I am trying to capture as much as I can with my camera and I am not sure if I am getting it all. I really hope that I am. I am just blindly pointing and clicking as this sun shines in my face. It is all amazing and it’s all I can do to capture as much as I can.

The rest of the swim is amazing as all sunrise swims are. It doesn’t hurt that the water is so darn warm. I feel like I am in some kind of paradise - probably because I am.