What is it about a swim at the beach at sunrise by yourself? I woke this morning exhausted at 5:30 waiting for a job. None came and Susanne had to go to work early today so I was on my own. I could have slept in, I could have just sat and watched the cartoons and ate some egg and foo sam'iches. But the sunrise and cold waters of Tod's point called to me. I had to go despite my desire to just rub my belly and be lazy. I arrived, greeted by a brisk October wind and the glorious pink and orange glow of morning over the water. I kicked off my flips , took off my shirt, let my hair out and ran down the beach, ran back and waded out into the low-tide surf. Into the quiet. The quiet of the morning wind, the slushing waves, the seagulls telling me to beat it they were still sleeping. And me. No one else is there swimming or walking on the beach. No wet suit, no goggles nor rubber cap. Just a hairpatch, bathing shorts and October air. There are some others out walking and jogging on the road. But not here and I am left alone with my thoughts and the quiet morning as I begin to wade and then swim out to the buoy some 50 yards away. At first its the usual, "Okay, if I catch a cramp or gulp water, what do I do? Relax, lay on your back and start creeping back in. But Reeelax. No panic". Then thoughts of: "Okay, if I DID die now, at least I died doing what I love, that's what the eulogies would say. I'd look so cool to all six people who came to my funeral. Though Susanne would kick my ass even after death for going first, probably bury me in a Hello Kitty dress, gum boots and a tiara with an open casket. Draw a mustache and Petey eye circle on me with a Sharpie too". I laugh out loud with no one to hear but me and the sea. Okay that covered, I start to just notice the silence. The nothingness and nature. It calls me out past the buoys into open waters. Not too far but past all warnings to the contrary. Where only boats and fish are supposed to venture. The silence says "
Keep going." I do. It says, "
Stop swimming and treading. Let go." Scary. but...I do. And my big arse doesn't sink. I bob down and then...come right back up. Miracle. 232 lbs. of Cap and I just bob back up. Fascinating. Safe in the bosom of the morning Sound no matter the troubles if I just "
Let go." The water is warmer than the 50 degree air. Quiet. Who is this voice telling me to let go, it will be alright? (The wind wooshing against my wet face.) To just be quiet in the waves with the sun cresting over the distant horizon? Who is it that whispers in my ear, my mind, and says, "
You are the storm and it's peaceful eye"? Strange you say? Not to me...I do this every morning if I can. Seek stillness and silence in the cold waters of sunrise. You might hear this voice too.
(Of course it could just be hypothermia setting in: I hear when your nuts freeze you begin to get visions. Damn, I still want that sam'ich. Go away so I can eat, puskas. I'm cold and hungry from swimming in freakin October at 6:00 am!)
(Still here? Try this one on...Sometimes when I strain too hard flipping tires I fart, but that's a different voice. That's a S.B.D. Different kind of silent.)
(There never was anyone here, was there? Well I think I'm funny so foo on you. Or me. Sam'ich. Make sam'ich.)
