“Water that Heals as I Go”

February 5, 2022  6pm | water temp 40F

Today at the lake, the water was glassy, the mountains where trying to peek out from behind the clouds, and the ducks were pecking the pebbles on the beach, looking for snacks. 

Heavy Thoughts To Start

I was sad when M picked me up today. I had planned on getting up in time for a livestream of a college classmate’s funeral, then got the day wrong. So when I woke up and realized what day it was I grabbed my phone to look for the video, started playing it, knowing M would arrive in a few minutes. I made a mental note to come back and watch the video tonight, but I suddenly felt off balance and angry. Heavy. Along with F’s funeral today, there have been many FB posts about another classmate, L, passing in January. I knew F as a friendly acquaintance back in the day, and had struck up a FB friendship with him about a year ago, so excited to learn about all the incredible things he’d been doing since I last saw him. 

Why do the very best people die? I feel like it has been this way for about eight or nine years. Every year one, two, three people lost. Some very close friends, some classmates I haven’t seen in years, others acquaintances. All of them kind, generous, smart, funny, hard working, the people who made a difference in SO MANY other lives, families, communities. 

I threw my gear into my bag and got my wetsuit halfway on, thinking that if the sun would come out during my swim I could do a sunbeam funnel ritual for F and L. 

Back to Summer Beach

M brought me to my summer beach spot, so I was very excited to swim there. The swim area is much bigger and the water is much clearer than the small beach close to mi casa. There were people at the park, walking and jogging on the paths, wandering along the beach, sitting on the picnic tables. It was a bit past four, but we still had plenty of light left. 

We timed it today: it take seven minutes for me to get those $%^&# gloves on. There was nobody in the water, and no boats, so I just waded in and started walking north to acclimate. Every few seconds I plopped all the way in to get my face wet, then I just started swimming — the usual start, stop, pull-up. It take so much longer in cold water to get my face acclimated. But I did it in about 10 tries, and then I swam as far as I could south, just making it past the boundaries of the swim area. I know this because I saw the underwater markers where they attach the corner ropes. 

There were some birds north of the swim area that were dunking their heads into the water, revealing their white underbellies. I thought, “well, it’s cold enough for penguins.” And it was cold. The thinnest part of the wetsuit: the arms. I felt the cold the entire time I was swimming but it wasn’t unpleasant. Just something to note.

Getting Acclimated

Zen Garden and Sending Loving Thoughts

Most of the seaweed is all shriveled or gone, so I got t see a lot of sand. I don’t know why but I find it so fascinating and calming to see the patterns in the sand. It’s like I’m swimming above a giant Zen garden. Is this the model? 

The sun popped out, big and orange, from behind the trees, but I couldn’t find a sunbeam tunnel. I think it was too late in the day. It would have to be enough to swim and have F and L in my thoughts. I could try that. I’m not someone who prays, but I can light a candle. I can keep someone in my thoughts and in my heart when I swim. Or I can just try to put the thought out there, then swim. For me swimming is meditative. I do have to pay attention to what I’m doing so I don’t swim too far in the wrong direction, but I can set an intention, in a way, then just focus on my stroke and breathing. So that’s what I did today. Back and forth from just outside the swim are to the cement dock. 

I let my mind go blank and swam back and forth, noting various rocks or cinder blocks or other markers on the lake floor. I love that the icky seaweed is gone. There is something about seeing the sand that makes the experience feel more expansive. As if the seaweeds are blocking the view, taking up too much space. This is about the water and the sand. I know I swim in a lake, but as I write this I’m thinking about “Sea and Sand.” I’m thinking about Quadrophenia. The Who. 

I’m not all angsty—the opposite. Feeling calm, tired, grateful. (Also, Long Live Rock. I need it every day.)

My Metaphors

I’m also thinking about how dark the water is when I swim after 4pm. I can’t see much but dark grey in the deeper water when I look down. Maybe that can be a metaphor for me. It is below me. I am making progress. The swimming is helping me. 

I still feel like I’m trapped in a deep pit….or sometimes I feel like I’m trapped in a lead box. But I am clinging to those two days I had last week were I felt oddly sort of happy. Or something. Maybe it wasn’t happy, but was good. I knew there were black edges all around it, but it was exciting to think that it could happen again. I still feel flat, overwhelmed, hopeless. And, I can laugh at the New Yorker cartoon my friend S texted me. 

I crave time with friends. Walking, phone calls, Zoom. I can chatter, participate, and feel connected. But it never lasts. When the time is up, I slip back into this state of disconnection. Like my love can’t get out and theirs can’t get in. This is what depression does and why I keep thinking of being in a pit or in a box….something gets in the way of me being me, having my “normal” feelings, thoughts, connections. It’s confusing, and … I try not to take it personally.

I know those two days gave me a little spark because 1. I have been bathing after my swims! (Mostly because I’m afraid of duck poop parasites)…and 2. I have been trying to tackle the disaster that is my home. I have been pulling out boxes and going through them, trying to find stuff to throw away or recycle. It’s mostly boxes of paper. So much paper. My last move I was in the care center and paid movers to pack and move my things. So I have no idea what’s in any of my boxes. Years and years and years of papers. And will my multipage scanner still work so I can save the important papers and toss the rest. I want to burn them. I have a portable fire pit. 

I have to do it when my landlord is out of town. I will burn the $%^ of my past! Ha! While I’m at it I will throw in any old socks I find. I HATE my socks. They are old, full of holes, mismatched. And still, years after an old relationship, one man’s socks still appear every so often. I’ve found more of his socks than years we were together. WTF?! 

Back to the lake… 

The swim was sublime. Every so often I would sight, and always, I was going in the wrong direction, like sometimes 180 degrees! I need to accept that I am just not capable of swimming in a straight line in the lake. When I would poke my head up, I felt like an adorable little otter, eyes at the surface, surveying the flat, flat water ahead. Pure and vast. The late sun casting orange across the water. The is the best view of the lake, from in the lake. No boats today. My arms were cold, but I was so perfectly relaxed, my mind empty, just focussing on my stroke, just breathing. I can tell when I’ve had enough, and it’s always at the 20 min mark (not that I know that in the water…..never see the timer until I get to the beach, but it almost always ends up being right around 20….today it was 21.)  My arms feel tired, I feel like the breathing is harder. 

I reached the cement dock, and decided to have a short float, then go in. I floated on my back for a few minutes. I had to spit out my snorkel because when the top dips into the water it closes. So I was breathing out of my mouth (my hose was swollen shut-allergies). I love floating on my back. It is the only “letting go” I ever feel. If I could do it in my mind, I could change my life. 

For now, I’ll do it in the lake. I will keep coming back. My doctor thinks it is helping me. I think it is, but I am nowhere near stable. As soon as my insurance company approves the new drug my doctor wants me to take I can try that. Then, magnet therapy for five weeks. I dread it. I’m worried it will take all my energy and I won’t get to swim. 

Whatever. I’m too tired to worry. I had an incredible swim. It is the only time I enjoy being alone. In the water I have all the space I need. No weight. Nothing in my head. 

Denmark

So, a few weeks ago I cashed in my birthday money to buy some neoprene shorts and a hooded vest, both to wear under my wetsuit for more warmth. Also purchased a 2020 hooded 6mm wetsuit, thinking this would be warmer and stop the water seeping in through the neck (of my current suit). I order from this cool skate shop, so the suit is more of a surf suit than for swimming. I don’t care. It was marked down cause it’s old stock. I almost bought a skateboard, too, but that’s another story.

Anyway, so the items have still not arrived. I finally figured out that the online store is NOT in Cali, as I had assumed because it was a skate shop and all the financials were in US $. It’s in DENMARK!!!!!! So, I am waiting for the UPS to be less backed up so I can get my gear from DENMARK. LOL. 

Other Peeps

When I was changing, we talking to a man and his son as they made their way across the beach with a metal detector. I told him that I’ve wanted a metal detector since I was a little kid, and all my friends have always made fun of me for that. The dad said, “i’m just the caddy,” which was super sweet. We all need caddies, facilitators, just a bit of help and company that allows us to do something we love. I pointed to M and said, “she’s my caddy.” 

Just love that the dad and son have a fun way to spend time together. The son had super long hair. I wanted to ask him about it. I bet he’s never had a haircut. How do people do that. I get impatient and cut it off myself!

Before I left for the beach today  I had messaged my friends, R, T, and B that we would be at the beach in case they were thinking of going today, too. Molly and I met them at the park last summer, and we love running into them and chatting. Because of the cold and dark, we have not been to the park. So I was eager to see them after so many months. 

After my swim M noticed R riding his bike, and I waved to him. Then in the distance, we saw T and B on a bench facing the lake. M wasn’t feeling well and wanted to get my gear packed into the car, so I hobbled over in my crazy multi-layered post-swim gear. 

I was so happy to see them. They are both wise and thoughtful, kind. I would love Covid to be over so I can invite them over for tea! Anyway, it always makes me happy to see R riding his awesome three-wheeled bike (I want one!!!) 

Until next time….

*Title reference to Anne Waldman’s “Fast-Speaking Woman”