The plunge

A grand video caught my attention during this morning's mundane scrolling of Instagram. It was that of a magnificent humpback whale coming out of the surface of the ocean and taking a beautiful plunge while displaying a grace not easily associable with that big a being.

When it went back in the ocean, its home, is when my craving rose from that spot and surfaced again. The craving to swim in the sea. To relive that experience of being in the water, rhythmically breathing, feeling minute in the vastness of the water body, a bit tense by acknowledging the unknown entities below the surface of the water, and slowly being as close a part of them as possible. 

It took me back to that suddenness when you are running from the beach and entering the ocean, feeling the first baby waves, and then further to when you realize that your hands are moving and your legs do not feel the sand or the beach shelf anymore. You're not breathing properly, the nerves are flared up, mind and body are both not at ease. Maybe the body is with its own memory of slight practice, but the mind...

Slowly as you swim towards the ocean, some people who started swimming with you go ahead, while some are left behind. Slowly you are on your own, moving swiftly, trying to get into a rhythm. Your breath calms down a bit, the mind is now listening to the body. Now your eyes truly open (behind the swimming goggles) and soak in the vastness of the ocean. The horizon beckons. Far away you see a boat, anchored at the point where you need to reach and turn back.

Hands and legs move in a ballet-like coordination and suddenly you realize, your speed is not matching up with the pace of your movements. The realization hits that the tide is following its daily routine. You feel it against you. Maybe telling you that you don't belong here in the ocean. Not anymore. You have evolved. There is still that vestigial spirit though that pushes you to go on. Now the mind takes over the body. You swim at your own pace and soon reach the turning point. 

At this point, the fellow swimmers have spread out. You are on your own. You turn around and then the tide slowly nudges you back towards the beach. You smile or rather your mind does. Now the sun is shining on your face. You see the beach and the small hill far away. Swimming goggles have become a bit foggy, but you can still see. Moreover, now you are feeling the distance than actually gauging it. You want to stop, stay afloat, soak it all in. The nothingness that you are. A speck of dust in the temporal universe. Absorb the music of the lapping waves. Rock yourself to the movement that feels like a baby's cradle swaying back and forth. Maybe you want to back to that unknown place.

And you move on. The tide reads your mind and pushes you faster towards the beach. Taking care of you. You continue swimming and closer to the beach you try touching the ground for the familiar sand. You feel it slowly, you try to walk, but it feels strange. You catch your balance, steady yourself and take a deep breath. 

You are back. Maybe a bit more alive than before.

This feeling. I need to be a bit more alive than before. I need to get back. Take the plunge.