Sitting at the edge of the dock, my feet are dangling close enough to the waters’ rolling surface to let the tops of the waves lap at our ankles. The alternating warmth of the Caribbean Sea and the cool of the wind wicking our wet soles is hypnotic. I can feel the echo of the surf in my cells, an inner ebb and flow sensation; a sensory souvenir from a day of snorkeling.

Luckily the wind kicks up at dusk keeping the mosquitos away at night. More luck: these few days we’ve been on the island the wind dies down for a large part of mid-day allowing excellent visibility in the clear waters.

Snorkeling might be my favorite form of movement; you can SEE and BREATHE as you move in WATER for hours on end. What is not to love? You don’t need to be in the Caribbean Sea to snorkel, consider a visit to your nearest public pool, I’ll bet you see swimmers with snorkels doing laps because it’s just freaking fantastic to breathe in water!

Something unique to snorkeling in an area of ocean home to living coral is the sound of tiny air bubbles, like soft crackles, like the sound rice crispy cereal makes when you pour milk on it. There are other sounds in the ocean. You can hear the rhythm of your own inhale and exhale. I also recall the occasional hum of a motorboat, and the swoosh of bird or person plunging into the water but that’s about it. It is quiet under the surface. It is a sweet silence that invites you to stay and play.

Coralina Island is home to a mangrove forest. As we snorkel the coastline that is home to natural coral structures, coral reclamation projects, and the mangrove roots there is plenty of aquatic architecture for sea life to happily inhabit.

Sea anemones, soft coral, sea grasses, coral that looks like brains and beehives, sea kelp, and an underwater “cabbage” form a playground for fish of all shapes and sizes. There are tiny silver fish in the thousands, while larger, long, thin, blue fish swim closer to the surface. The fancy red and orange fish with a sun rise motif on each individual scale sparkle. The sweet little black fish with big round eyes and wispy fins stare wide- eyed back at me. Tiny light pink lobsters, busy blue crabs, and a cocoa-colored eel with a white lace looking fin running the length of its back are a few of my swim mates. These are just the few species I encountered - there are more, so many more.

Aware but not afraid

When floating at the surface in the middle of the day, your body creates a shadow as you slowly float over the lively coral. The creatures (and I assume the plants equally) know you are there, probably well before your shadow passes over them directly. We humans take up space, even when we are doing our very best to not be obtrusive. Our mere presence creates a shift.

Creatures respond. There is a pause in motion, or a darting into a hidey-hole. Once they have assessed you are not a threat, they get on with their activities of daily living.

Obviously, I cannot read the mind and heart of sea creatures, and yet I have a sense (based on the behavior I witnessed) they are aware of our presence, but they are not afraid. That seems to be true of the way they interact with their entire environment. To be aware of all that might endanger them, (larger fish, birds, humans, storms etc.) to be aware, but not afraid. Awareness calls for skill in action. Darting into a safe place, assessing, then resuming their course of munching on sea moss, rather than a being overcome by a fear induced paralysis making a hidey-hole a prison.

Aware but not afraid, what a valuable lesson to learn from our wise water friends. Be aware of all that offers challenge and opportunity in our environment but be not afraid.

When we submerge

Dealing with fear in the open ocean is real. When you are learning how to scuba dive you are taught over, and over, and over again “do not hold your breath” (because air pressure changes at different depths of water and you don’t want your lungs to rupture).
As you advance in the scuba skills training you learn these four rules for breathing underwater.

1. Breathe continuously and never hold your breath

2. Breathe slowly and deeply.

3. Do not allow yourself to get winded or out-of-breath

4. If faced with a problem stop, then reduce anxiety by maintaining or restoring slow, deep breathing.

While brushing up on scuba skills I felt as if I was being reminded of teachings from the roots of yoga. The mind (how we might experience anxiety) is not separate from the body (how we breathe). The body is not separate from the mind. Each influences the other.

This morning as I moved through my yoga asana practice, I tried at times (with limited success) to visualize the aquatic world I had the privilege to admire. Rather than getting frustrated that I was feeling stiff, that I could not conjure and hold onto aquatic imagery, I listened to the sound of my breath and employed the four rules of scuba breathing. The obstruction of my mind’s critical chatter gave way as the combination of conscious breath and mindful movement lured me to swim deeper into a quieter space within. Much like it is noticeably quieter just under the surface of the ocean.

When we let ourselves submerge, the chop of the surface, the flutter of distractions, the chatter that can pull us off balance dissipates. It is as if when we submerge, our individual consciousness merges with the cosmic universal consciousness. The roots of yoga teach us that merging one with all is yoga, is unity. In that space (even if only for a moment) we can experience existence with clarity. We know from the depths of our being we are not alone. Just as our body and mind are not separate, we (we humans) are not separate from the planet, that our (individual) existence is intertwined with ALL beings.

Eventually we resurface, because we are house holders, and the pull of daily life is real, and yet those moments submerged are available to us at any time as if our own body and breath were a portal. I have noticed those moments of unity help me navigate the world with more clarity, my thoughts, words, and actions align.

Today as I write this my feet are wrapped in fuzzy socks rather than dangling off a dock. It feels as if mother nature with the cooler temps of winter is inviting us to turn our awareness inward, to find our own way to submerge into a quieter place within, perhaps to contemplate our relationship to our own heart-mind-body-spirit, with each other, with this beautiful blue planet.

I invite you to find your way inward, to allow yourself to submerge. I find breath and movement practices helpful, there are as many ways to go as there are people on the planet (8 billion!), I’m cheering you on however you go.

January 2023