Joy Steak

It’s been several days since my last swim. We’ve had some rain and I’ve been busy with work, but today looks like I have a green light to get in the water. I sleep in until 6:30 and I probably could have stayed in bed longer but I want to get a move on. I look out my bedroom window and am delighted to see mostly clear skies. The forecast called for cloudy skies but it’s not always clear exactly what cloudy means. One thing is for sure. It’s cold - 48 degrees and looking at my weather app, it’s not expected to heat up any time soon.

It’s about 49 when I walk my dog, Ocean, through my apartment complex. I’m just wearing my swim trunks and a t-shirt, but any time I come into direct contact with sunlight, it feels wonderful. It’s 52 by the time I leave for the beach at 8:30. When I get to Blue Lantern and can see Catalina, I have to practically squint to make it out in the haze. It’s really just a shadow out there somewhere.

I’m grateful as I exit my car for that sunlight again. It feels good. I seriously considered bringing along my pack and walking to the beach with a t-shirt and sweatshirt but I just love the freedom of having only camera and goggles in hand without the weight of a pack and having to deal with removing clothing and stowing it. I know that all sounds ridiculously trivial and I suppose that it is but I take joy in being able to just walk into the water and then come out and head directly for the stairs. I believe these little joys add up so I like to deposit them in my little joy piggy bank I keep in my heart knowing that someday I can use them for a big joy steak dinner. Did you know that joy steak is completely vegan? It is!

Speaking of joy, I see my friend John as I walk to the stairs. I have not seen him in a few months and he is always a joy to see. We went to the same church and ended up leaving that church for similar reasons. Neither of us could stomach the tone of the rhetoric. We chat for a bit and I tell him about my epic New Year’s Eve swim to the harbor and back. We say goodbye and I deposit another joy quarter into my joy piggy bank I keep in my heart. I’m so happy to do this because that bank is feeling a little empty this morning after a tough evening with my son last night.

I don’t commiserate with myself too much over the impending cold water as I walk to the beach. Today I feel ready and even a little glad for the cold. I might just need that cold today. I need something. Something to draw me out of myself and into this world of beauty I live in and the beauty I see right now all around me. The tide is lowish and the beach looks beautiful. When I reach the water, it does not feel all that cold on my feet but that’s just because my feet are already freezing. There are actual waves in the water. They are not large but they are something and they are nice to look at - so smooth and clean.

I walk into the water and past these waves and start to swim south. It’s cold but does not seem colder than my last swim - certainly not significantly so. I do notice just a bit of an ice cream headache at first which subsides after a couple minutes. It’s a beautiful beautiful morning out here. The haze on the horizon grows and dims the light just a little but all and all it still feels sunny and sunny is good.

I can’t say anything unusual or remarkable occurs over this same swim I have swum well over a thousand times. Yet it is undoubtedly remarkable and unusual as is every swim. I feel held by the water and the water becomes spirit and it connects with my own. The water does not care that I yelled at my son last night or at least it doesn’t hold it against me. The water sees there is another side to me. That voice that screamed is not my only voice. The water shows me who I am by showing me what is here right now. The water is cold and demands my attention.

I’m not a fan of the doctrine of “original sin,” the belief that we are born in sin, imperfect - worse than imperfect but flawed down to the very core of who we are. This is certainly part of that “rhetoric” I mentioned above that compelled me to leave an evangelical church I had attended. Western Evangelicalism purports that we are all flawed by nature and it is only the blood of Jesus that can save us from eternal conscious torment in hell that this nature entitles us to. No I don’t believe in all that, but I do believe this: I believe we all know what it feels like to think of ourselves as irredeemably flawed down to our core. I believe that is a feeling that leads us to live in a place of hell. We need to be reminded that is not true. We need to be reminded that we are all children of God - pure and whole and good and when we can believe in that it is our salvation. When I think of Jesus and what I imagine he is telling me through this experience in the water, it is exactly that. I want to live in that belief. I know it will pass eventually and I’ll visit hell again. I hope only briefly. I don’t think salvation is a one time event but rather it is like the waves in the ocean that constantly come to shore. We pass in and out of salvation and damn ourselves but salvation always comes again. There is no stopping it. The waves may subside for a day or so but there is always another swell coming.