Trust

Yet another dreary morning here in Dana Point but at least the ground is dry. Not that wet is particularly terrible. Why should I even care? I’m about to jump in the ocean.

I leave at 8:00 and the sky is fully covered in clouds. It’s 60 degrees outside and comfortable. I leave my pack in the car again today and that may just be the norm until November for all I know. I’m liking this change in season. It’s not so much the carrying of the pack that I am happy to forgo though it is a nice side effect. It’s the underlying significance - the confidence that there will be no hypothermia - not even a chance, which is of course somewhat of a lie because there is always a chance of hypothermia but it would be quite the outlier of an event today.

The wind is fairly calm now and the ocean surface is not glassy but it holds just the slightest bit of texture. I spy a jr. guard flyer that notes the opening of the camps on June 16th. I jot that down in my internal calendar. As I step onto the beach, I see there is some surf. A set of waves is rolling in that looks to be about head high. I get in the water after this set dissipates and I manage my way past the white water without needing to dive under a single wave.

I swim south today. The water feels good. It’s not exactly luxuriously warm but anything “comfortable” feels luxurious now. March and April definitely had some rough spots but it is starting to feel like we are catching the rip tide into Summer now even if I can’t see the sun right now. The forecast does call for sun later in the week and temps in the mid 70’s. Oh that sounds too good to be true.

It seems like I have not been seeing so many Pelicans lately but today I had several sightings. As I swim I see one fly over me as I lift my head for air and then I immediately reach for my camera to get a shot and hope that they are not too far away. They are all flying north to south today.

At the south end of the beach, waves are breaking close and I am trying to pay attention to my immediate surroundings in the final few hundred feet before I reach the headlands. I stop at my usual turnaround spot and watch the waves curl over and explode just inshore of me. I take in the view here for just a bit and then head north.

The whole way to the other end of the beach I feel great, at least on the outside. I’m a little agitated and stressed on the inside for various reasons. I’ve been like this for a few days and a couple days ago I was sitting in my car while my son and his friend were shopping at Michael’s. My phone was dead so I couldn’t lose myself in that. So I just closed my eyes and placed my attention on my breath and that spot that is all around me and you and everyone else. You know the spot I’m talking about right? Eventually an image takes shape in my head of the silhouette of a person flailing their arms in the water. It’s the panic that can kill you. All you have to do is relax and be calm and suddenly your chances of survival dramatically increase.

In that moment of visualizing this scene it all becomes clear to me that I need to calm myself and stop flailing my arms. That won’t necessarily erase the stress or the circumstances causing the stress but it can help me to weather the storm. There is something else in this internal vision. It’s not something I see but a feeling that arises in the word “trust.” I just need to trust. Am I able to calm my flailing arms because I trust or am I able to trust once I still my body? I don’t know, but there is indeed a link between the two.

So ever since that afternoon, I keep trying to steer my mind back to the word trust. Here in the water right now I do the same. Trust. Keep swimming. Watch the Pelicans glide over the surface of the water. When the big wave looks like it is about to break right on top of me, dive below the water and let its energy push me to shore.