on visiting the beach (and getting swept away)
๐๏ธ
Lately, I've been visiting the beach a lot. By a lot, I mean everyday. I'm lucky enough to live near four or five of the most beautiful (I think) beaches in the world. The past week has been nothing but 40 degree days (celsius) so swimming has been pretty much necessary down here. Over the past week, as well, the beach has been perfect- no swell, nice sets of waves, and not windy. It's also been packed everyday.
But today, as I discovered when I got in the water, it was not ideal beach conditions. The water was choppy and sandy, it was extremely windy, and there were rips everywhere (strong currents that drag you out to sea). It wasn't unenjoyable, but it was difficult to actually have a 'proper' swim. Eventually I gave up trying and left the beach to its own devices.
I don't often feel unsafe in the water- I could probably count on one hand the times when I've needed to urgently swim to shore- and today was one of the few times I needed to get out. Growing up in Australia, beach safety has always been drilled into my head- swim diagonally out of a rip, watch out for sharks, and dive under the waves. I think one problem with the constant warnings and cautions is that they all blur into the background for me, become too common for me to care about.
Being trapped in a rip does scare me, however. Sucked out into open waters, struggling against an unstoppable current, weakening from exhaustion- I don't like thinking about it. But I think that rips probably serve as a metaphor in some way for life. Especially considering the way to get out of a rip is to not fight the current, but use it to swim to shore. There's a meaning in there, somewhere.
I think the unstoppable currents of life are more subtle than a rip. I think for me, they take the form of exams and broken relationships. Things that inevitably march onwards, taking me with it whether I want it to happen or not. And getting out of trouble (or getting past it) is often more complicated than I think- there isn't often a direct path to shore. But there's a reason you have to swim diagonally out. The way forward sometimes involves getting swept away.
I don't know- maybe this metaphor got too tangled up on the way. But I do know that some things you can't always fight against, not directly. I guess for me, like most things, this is a warning and a lesson.
xoxo cec