Saturday, November 14, 2015

40 at Sea

Turning 40 sounds older than it feels. I have known this would probably be the case. My great grandfather lived to almost 100, and he said he never felt older than 30 in his mind.

As someone who is not usually hung up over actual dates, I have never planned a vacation over my birthday. (I believe in the importance of celebrating and marking important moments, but I loath the pressure and expectations of any "should" or get-over-it-because-it's-X-holiday kind of thinking.) So when my In-laws gave me a trip earlier this year, I was mostly just excited for any reason to see the ocean. It turns out celebrating my 40th trip around the sun while floating in the Caribbean/Gulf was pretty spectacular.





On the 9th I skinny dipped on this private beach in Progresso. I found some really amazing sea gifts which may have involved me hopping a barrier to an "uncombed" stretch of sand.

On the way to the beach I also had the joy of seeing hundreds of flamingos in their natural habitat. I have wanted a flamingo feather for a while now, and I actually found one on the beach fifteen miles away from the habitat.




On the 10th I got to scuba dive for the first time. It's a good thing I'm more of a learn by doing kind of gal because that's exactly what happened that day. A few instructions in the "classroom" and then they strapped on our gear and told us to go under. It sure throws the rational brain---so letting go of what you know and trusting what you feel is demanded. The whole thing came quite naturally to me, but maybe that has something to do with my well-exercised comfort for trusting process/experience?
     There were, however, times I would get so enamored with what I was seeing, that I would actually forget to breathe and my body would float up and carry me away until I remembered to breathe normally. Duh, if you store up air in your lungs, you begin to float. If you exhale and only use the immediate air available, you can just swim and breathe without floating (you wear weights).
      The other reminder that I was breathing under water occurred when I wanted to talk with Cody about what we were seeing. (Hmmm...talk or breathe?) This actually surprised me quite a lot because one of my favorite things about being under water are the peaceful, muted sounds. I am certain there are profound analogies in my scuba learning and I am still processing the ideas.
 
On the 11th, my body woke me up at 5:30 and said, "Go outside!" I slipped out onto the balcony for two glorious hours of solitude and contemplation aided by the sound of the ocean, watching Perseus until the sun took over. Then I slipped back into bed and woke up hours later, just in time for brunch. The rest of the day was full of sketching and resting, dreaming and visions I will continue to process, if not paint. Letting go was easy, because being away from all responsibility (where I do not have to worry about providing food or water for anyone, even myself) was quite the restful gift.





And so it was---a string of non-ordinary days at sea. I do not know if it will ever happen again, and I'm learning to believe that is okay.

I now have the memory, and more importantly, the frame.

2 comments:

the Whitelaws said...

Sounds like a perfect trip! Congratulations! Here's to at least 40 more!

Julie said...

I'm so glad you had such a wonderful, restful trip! I can just see you in the bottom of that big salt aquarium!