someone was telling me about how she loves to scuba dive, how when she’s down there, with the creatures, anyone who she encounters is a surprise, is a gift, is an electric memory she’ll continue to cherish. she said that she’d never put the dots together before, but realized that this relationship, or this approach to these encounters beneath the surface offered instruction for meeting people, places, experiences on land. you can’t grip, keep grasping them, you just enjoy it while it lasts. you open yourself to whatever, whoever, arrives, or passes by. i’m paraphrasing.
she reminded me of this free diver i learned about a while back, Helena Bourdillon. she is also a breathing trainer (!) and a mental health advocate. there’s a beautiful short film about her called Light Beams for Helena(!)
(^ still from Light Beams for Helena)
in the film, she talks (like the other person) about how free diving has allowed her to stretch her sense of her own capacity and capability on land. “This fence that i made so neatly, it can grow” she says. she shares, “this joy just bubbles up from inside and it’s totally uncontainable”
somewhere below, or within, water pressure insisting on attention, on presence. look who’s here, admire them until they swim away. the darkness beneath the surface invigorating us, depth reflecting that the limit you had placed on yourself isn’t true any more. just a little further, and breathing.