I've never really liked swimming all that much. Mostly because I hate getting into cold water. It just makes me fucking grumpy. I'm feeling a little grumpy just thinking about it. And if I can't see and touch the bottom of whatever body of water I am in, I get a little freaked out. And don't pretend that you never for at least a few seconds worry about what kind of creepy monster-like creatures are in the water that you can't see through, because I know you do. I don't care how together and mature you are, that silly irrational fear never really goes away. None of our silly things like that completely go away.
Another thing related to my dislike of water is there was some point in time as a young girl I realized I was unusually white, or in the case of summertime, freakishly pink. The thought of exposing my pasty white legs and thus blinding every person at the pool terrified me. Not because I was concerned about actually damaging anyone's vision, but because of being singled out as different, the weird awkward kind of different, not the cool ethereal magical unicorn/pegasus kind of different.
Also, I'm just not very good at swimming. Every summer my siblings and I had a pass to Fairmont Pool (best babysitter EVER). My parents even signed me up for swimming lessons one year. This was when I gained the courage to dive off of the diving board, because I totally officially knew how to swim. But, I was kind of a lazy kid (now I'm just a lazy adult) and I hated doing anything other than dog paddling. At one point in time, the life guard made me go to the shallow end of the pool and prove that I could actually swim.
I can't really blame them. I'm sure I looked like I was drowning. I flailed like an idiot plugging my nose because I had no idea how to not get water up my nose when I jumped in the water. . . I still don't know how to not get water up my nose. Apparently I am suppose to blow out my nose, but frankly, I just don't want to do that, it just freaks me out. Besides, there's this time vortex that I fall into when I go under water where time slows way down and one second feels like a kazillion seconds (yes, that's a word). Why would I breath out until I knew I would be able to breathe air and not water?
I've spent only a little bit of time near the ocean, and far less time actually in it. I was nearly 20 years old the first time I saw the ocean. I loved it of course. I mean, not to get all crazy hippie about things, but it is our first mom after all. Sorry moms, you are all important too. I love you. But, well. . . you know.
I love standing on the edge of the wash where it just covered my feet, watching one wave recede back into the younger one. It always feels like the new wave was going to be huge, and it is, but its momentum would always be eaten up by its sibling's return assuring that I wouldn't be washed away by the tide. . . except for the ones that didn't. If I did this for long enough, it felt like the water was invisibly pulling me in to keep me FOREVER. This puts me into a super stoney trance, and it feels great. And it's a super plus that the mother ocean has yet to claim me for hers forever. . . not yet anyway. Thanks mom of all moms. You sure are swell. Oh man, I just made a pun. Did you get it? Swellll?? uhhh, sorry.
It's fucking vast, and full of goddamn mystery. I mean, there's parts of the Earth under there that reputable folks thought nothing could ever survive in. Guess what? They were wrong. And it turns out, things can actually live where it is a kazillion degrees and many, many miles into the depths of the ocean. Okay, fine, kazillion isn't an actual quantity. Point being, there's some crazy scary awesome shit it that water. But, mostly the respect part lies in the power. Just listening to the ocean gives me goose bumps. That's some energy. It's overwhelming. And it's amazing. Ah-MAZING. And it scared the shit out of me. Metaphorically speaking of course. . . mostly.
When I got to Cambria, I found out that Brandon has two wet suits and two surf boards, and I thought to myself, "Ohhhhhh, here's an opportunity to experience something new and super scary." So, within the first week of living by the ocean, we went surfing. Well, I guess you could call it that. . . maybe more like going into the ocean with surf boards in tow.
I trudged onward and errr inward? oceanward? The water was getting higher, and I was successfully jumping through the waves without getting knocked too far back. Then my feet were no longer touching the ground, and I was floating hanging on to my board. My feet eventually found the ground, and I took that opportunity to hop on and paddle my silly little heart out. I was knocked clean off the board, water and sand gushed up in my face and nose, and all the water around me was gurgling in my ears, bubbly and clear as I looked up from underneath the water. Fully thinking I should be panicking, I totally wasn't. Rad! Also, ocean water in your nose is way better than fresh water. It was engaging, with simple predictable obstacles. I was exhausted quickly and felt like I had just gotten out of a hot spring on a wintery day in Idaho. I was super sold on being in the ocean.
I can't really blame them. I'm sure I looked like I was drowning. I flailed like an idiot plugging my nose because I had no idea how to not get water up my nose when I jumped in the water. . . I still don't know how to not get water up my nose. Apparently I am suppose to blow out my nose, but frankly, I just don't want to do that, it just freaks me out. Besides, there's this time vortex that I fall into when I go under water where time slows way down and one second feels like a kazillion seconds (yes, that's a word). Why would I breath out until I knew I would be able to breathe air and not water?
I feel like I've done a fairly sufficient job rambling about my non-water baby tendencies. So, here's what I really wanted to ramble about.
I've spent only a little bit of time near the ocean, and far less time actually in it. I was nearly 20 years old the first time I saw the ocean. I loved it of course. I mean, not to get all crazy hippie about things, but it is our first mom after all. Sorry moms, you are all important too. I love you. But, well. . . you know.
I love standing on the edge of the wash where it just covered my feet, watching one wave recede back into the younger one. It always feels like the new wave was going to be huge, and it is, but its momentum would always be eaten up by its sibling's return assuring that I wouldn't be washed away by the tide. . . except for the ones that didn't. If I did this for long enough, it felt like the water was invisibly pulling me in to keep me FOREVER. This puts me into a super stoney trance, and it feels great. And it's a super plus that the mother ocean has yet to claim me for hers forever. . . not yet anyway. Thanks mom of all moms. You sure are swell. Oh man, I just made a pun. Did you get it? Swellll?? uhhh, sorry.
Anyway. . .
It's fucking vast, and full of goddamn mystery. I mean, there's parts of the Earth under there that reputable folks thought nothing could ever survive in. Guess what? They were wrong. And it turns out, things can actually live where it is a kazillion degrees and many, many miles into the depths of the ocean. Okay, fine, kazillion isn't an actual quantity. Point being, there's some crazy scary awesome shit it that water. But, mostly the respect part lies in the power. Just listening to the ocean gives me goose bumps. That's some energy. It's overwhelming. And it's amazing. Ah-MAZING. And it scared the shit out of me. Metaphorically speaking of course. . . mostly.
When I got to Cambria, I found out that Brandon has two wet suits and two surf boards, and I thought to myself, "Ohhhhhh, here's an opportunity to experience something new and super scary." So, within the first week of living by the ocean, we went surfing. Well, I guess you could call it that. . . maybe more like going into the ocean with surf boards in tow.
Brandon's coaching for surfing was simple.
Which means he told me to hold the board above the water, turn around and hop on it, paddling real fast when there was a good wave. I wasn't really very comfortable with that. I almost started crying when he was pulling ahead of me in the water not understanding how freaked out I was, until I said, "I'm scared!! and about to cry!" Mind you, I was laughing at the same time, knowing that I must have looked silly as a 33 year old whiney like But he was great and said, "Nah, you'll be fiiiiiiiine. Come on!" For whatever reason, that totally worked despite the fact that I still felt like I had no tools to actually maneuver a surf board in the ocean. Besides, I trust Brandon. So, I guess that's all I need.I trudged onward and errr inward? oceanward? The water was getting higher, and I was successfully jumping through the waves without getting knocked too far back. Then my feet were no longer touching the ground, and I was floating hanging on to my board. My feet eventually found the ground, and I took that opportunity to hop on and paddle my silly little heart out. I was knocked clean off the board, water and sand gushed up in my face and nose, and all the water around me was gurgling in my ears, bubbly and clear as I looked up from underneath the water. Fully thinking I should be panicking, I totally wasn't. Rad! Also, ocean water in your nose is way better than fresh water. It was engaging, with simple predictable obstacles. I was exhausted quickly and felt like I had just gotten out of a hot spring on a wintery day in Idaho. I was super sold on being in the ocean.
So, it wasn't nearly as scary as I thought.
What was really scary was when I went out with my sweet young adventurous friend Lauren. She's from Arizona, and at this time was in her wonderful floating-around-to-find-her-place kind of space.
Lauren and I pulled on the wetsuits one evening and just. . . swam out into the ocean. Which is way scarier than being on a surfboard in the ocean, for whatever reason. My favorite part was diving under the whitewash. Every time I went under, my body would turn so I was facing up, and I could see the sun shining through the white wash, and the bubbles washing past my face. THE BUBBLES. Oh man, they were the best. They just tickled all over my face, and in my hair. It was like when you tickle or kiss a baby, and they get all giddy and gross adorable. That's what it made me feel like. But, I got to do it like 20 times in a row!!! So good. We mad fit past the break. and we just sunbathed in the mean. Laying on our backs. Bobbing in that giant fucking beast of a body. I really wish I could tell you what it was like in a more conducive manner, but I just can't. But, it felt really great, and whole.
Something I wish I would have done more of as teenager.
But, I didn't, and that is okay too.
Lauren and I pulled on the wetsuits one evening and just. . . swam out into the ocean. Which is way scarier than being on a surfboard in the ocean, for whatever reason. My favorite part was diving under the whitewash. Every time I went under, my body would turn so I was facing up, and I could see the sun shining through the white wash, and the bubbles washing past my face. THE BUBBLES. Oh man, they were the best. They just tickled all over my face, and in my hair. It was like when you tickle or kiss a baby, and they get all giddy and gross adorable. That's what it made me feel like. But, I got to do it like 20 times in a row!!! So good. We mad fit past the break. and we just sunbathed in the mean. Laying on our backs. Bobbing in that giant fucking beast of a body. I really wish I could tell you what it was like in a more conducive manner, but I just can't. But, it felt really great, and whole.
We started getting pulled out further away from land.
We were already pretty far out, so I said, "Hey Lauren, I think maybe we should go back while we can still see land." So we did. Let me tell you, that whole swim parallel to the land thing, it is totally true. we got back on the other side of the break, and as quickly as my serenity set in upon entering the ocean, the humiliation of getting my ass beat by those waves took it away. I was much less graceful getting out of the water.
But, I was also laughing a lot, and I think that despite the fact that water still is trying to humiliate me on a regular basis whether that be making me blind people with my nearly iridescent skin color, or kicking me while I'm down, it seems to know what is good for me. I think I'll keep hanging out with it.
