Today is a Different Day

I’m delighted when I wake up this morning. Wait…that’s not exactly true. I got up at 4:00 and I can’t say my first emotion was delight. However, shortly afterwards I check out the beach webcams just like any sane person would. I can see water and sand. Barely, but I can see them. This is an immense improvement over yesterday. The beach was completely socked in with thick fog from before dawn until around 2:00 in the afternoon yesterday. The view from the webcams was a featureless blank grey screen.

The Doheny webcam seemed mostly clear so I thought I’d swim from Capo to the Doheny campgrounds and back. I drive the 15 minutes from my apartment to the Capo Beach parking lot and the fog is building and the waves are biggish and the tide is coming up to the boulder edge of the parking lot and it is rising. Honestly it probably would have been fine, but I just drove back home and went to the gym to torture myself on the elliptical machine.

Today is a different day. I get to the beach parking lot at 10:00. It’s a beautiful morning. The sun is out and it’s in the mid 70s. So delightful. The sun is whispering poetry in my ear. Unfortunately it simply cannot be translated into English so I’m afraid I am unable to share it here.

There is some texture on the water but it’s calmed down a little from earlier in the morning. I don’t see any crumble on the water anymore. While things are mostly sunny, it looks like tropical storm Mario is starting to make a move into the area. There are large clouds out on the northern distance and lots of wispy haze to the south and west. It’s all gorgeous.

I walk down the stairs. People complain, but I just love walking up and down these stairs. The walk down puts me in the water based mindset I need to be prepared for the swim and the walk back up allows me to come down from the high and bask in the afterglow of what I experienced.

I get into the water. A wave approaches and I dive right into the face of it as t is breaking. I swim south today. The water is cloudy and maybe just a little cooler but still quite comfortable. There are cool spots and warm spots and I can also feel a distinct warmth resting on the upper crust of the surface. My face can feel the warmth every time I rise for air. Then I plunge into the cool and stare towards the kelp standing below me.

For much of my life, I have allowed myself to entertain a sense of impending doom. You know it is very difficult to entertain a sense of doom. This sense is not one to easily experience, and certainly not enjoy, any form of entertainment. I don’t think I am alone here. I think humans have a special knack for embracing worst case scenarios. I consider myself to have mastered the art form. Well I’d very much like to be done with this medium. I was at a social gathering/book club this last weekend where someone said, “wouldn’t it be interesting to cultivate the opposite of a sense of doom whatever you would call that.” Well that’s exactly what I have been feeling for the past month or so.

For the last several weeks I have been feeling this sort of impending sense of flourishing. It is difficult to explain both what it is and, especially, why I have been feeling this. I feel like there is a wave - a huge and wonderful wave - building far off shore. It’s been registering on the buoys. We know it is coming. The upper edge is beginning to feather and its mist is catching in an offshore breeze. It’s going to break and its white water will pounce on me and break me open and set me free. This is the image I have. It’s more than an image but a feeling.

As I swim today I allow myself to indulge in this feeling. I feel crazy for feeling it. Well today I’m choosing to be ok with it. I’m not going to worry or obsess about being crazy. I mean it seems like giving myself over to these thoughts and feelings can only be good. What part of myself is it that not only is fine with worse case scenarios but also seeks to condemn fantasizing about good things on the horizon? I think that part definitely needs a hug. Would I want my children to feel foolish for fantasizing about incoming blessings? Would I advise them to embrace all the potential downfalls that are surely forthcoming. Hell no. That sounds terrible.

I feel like there is something in this water I am swimming in that wants to be received. That’s all I have to do. It’s right here. I just need to open my arms and receive it.

As the swim unfolds, the sky gets more and more hazy and less and less luminescent. It’s still lovely to be here. The water is up and down and all around. It’s all bouncy. I take these pictures of the surrounding views that feel like th same old pics I have been snapping for years but also fresh and new because the clouds and light have never ever been quite like this before. Today we are all looking at something that has never been seen before. I’m so happy to be here to capture it.