I’m working through an idea that will take a few short essays to unravel. I think it’s coming from my new habit (10 minutes of daily contemplative practice). How’s yours going???

So. The ocean.

I am not a strong swimmer. I am, however, a lifelong Anne of Green Gables devotee and 30.8% Goth. So, in theory, I love being thrown around by the ocean. My first few steps into the surf are invigorating: look at this glorious untamed magnificence! The sun sparkles on the water!! Salt on my face reminds me that I’m alive!!! What a world!!!! For around twenty seconds I tread into the waves in great poetic dignity, trailing my fingers along the surface while the water swells up around my waist, lifting me gently to the tips of my toes, shattering now and then into delicate spray.

And then I stumble into the breaker zone*, and the charm is gone. Suddenly every wave is cresting at my face. I can’t catch a breath. A riptide* sweeps my feet forward and knocks my head backward, again and again and again. I’m sputtering, thinking, just give me a few seconds, a few seconds to catch my breath and get my feet under me; I’ll be fine. But there’s no “few seconds”. The waves don’t stop.

[* NB I am not an Ocean Person, so I am wantonly naming these ocean phenomena with MAXIMUM DRAMA and MINIMUM ACCURACY.]

Stronger swimmers, I guess?, just slice forward through the surf, get to the other side and, somehow, look graceful doing it. I, on the other hand, choke and cough and flap and feel like I will definitely drown in these four feet of water.

I was an adult when I happened upon my admittedly desperate strategy:

Dive.

Sink.

Just—get under.

It’s astonishing to me how quiet and peaceful it is beneath all of that crashing cacophony. It’s still the ocean, still wild and cold, still breathless. There’s still movement. But: it’s rocking, not slamming. The sunlight is diffuse, steady. Down there is what Sarah Blondin calls an “ancient rumbling.” Under, I can find my bearings, bypass the surf to swim forward or let the waves send me shooting back to shore.

This new contemplation habit has got me diving beneath the waves every day, sinking into the deep and quiet rushing. Guys, of course, my brain keeps tossing up METAPHORICAL LIFE APPLICATIONS, but I'm trying to take them slowly. I think this sinking has some really rich implications for Table living, for being a whole person in serious times. Look how Zen I am after just a couple of weeks' contemplation! Once this is an ingrained habit I will be INSUFFERABLE!!! All that to say: applications to come; for now I’m going to stay here, under the waves, listening.

Does this land at all? I’m definitely interested to hear what it dredges up for you!