That the soft overcomes the hard, and the yielding overcomes the resistant, is a fact known by all, but practiced by few.
Lao Tse
I wasn’t surfing, had no board except my less than flat stomach, and I was waiting for the right wave (not too big, not too small) to take me into the beach.
There was also the rare and beautiful site of a pod of dolphins a few hundred yards out from me. It was closer than I had ever seen them before from my home and favorite beach nestled near the eastern tip of Long Island. But over the years, owing to either a healthier sea or a failing one, there have been many such unusual sightings in regard to marine life, at least that I have observed. In fact, the week before I saw the largest whale of my life in the water (it looked to me like a humpback), breaching just past where the dolphins were swimming, breaking the water and crashing with a massive splaying splash, as if auditioning for an insurance commercial.
In my youth, I would spend hours at the beach. My friends and I would jump and dive waves, body surf and boogie board, and when it was really rough, play a game called “dead fish,” where we would float back and forth in the surf like flotsam, taking hit after hit from crashing waves, with the “winner” being the last one to succumb to fear and flee a giant crester.
Those days are long past, and now, owing to a former melanoma, and a greater susceptibility to cold (or not warm) water, and brittle bones, my beach and swimming experience consists usually of a quick dunk, a towel off, and a head home.
But it was so nice the day I describe, I decided to hang in the water a bit longer. And upon seeing a perfectly rolling wave, to body surf. I stretched out my arms like a middle aged Superman, and pushed off my legs, and caught it just right. It took me in like an arrow, straight and fast to the shore, so that when I lifted my head my nose was almost in the sand.
It was fun, and it reminded me how important it is to still have fun, to be a kid when you can, to ride waves and jump them, to enjoy the moment and take advantage of the moment. But still, dead fish was out of the question.
Owing to the success of the last wave, I ventured out again for another. But as I strode out I saw that a huge wave was coming. I had moved to far from the beach to turn and retreat to the safety of the shallows, and I was too far from the wave, which was cresting, to dive under it without being tossed about.
So I did what I had done in these circumstances since a child, waited for it to crash and then going as low as I can. As it swept over me, I felt the familiar feeling of being flipped and rolled in the water, like being a piece of clothing in a washing machine. I did not panic – I had been in this position so many times, and knew, once it passed, I would settle and pop up none for the worse.
Which I did. And as I recovered and floated peacefully, I realized, that too was fun.
But also something else. It was a reminder, an easy metaphor, for life. When troubled times come, when you are in the “wash”, so to speak, being tossed and turned by difficult events, pressure and stress, you can either let go and trust it will pass, or fight against it. Unfortunately, for too long, since my father passed last year, and throughout this pandemic, I have been doing the latter – going against the tumult, trying to free myself from the pain, the anxiety, the depression I was feeling, rather than just accept, succumb, and trust that it will move on when it is ready to move on, no matter what I do. As the Buddha teaches, “The more you try to control something, the more it controls you. Free yourself and let things take their natural course.”
So happy, safe and fun swimming this summer, dear readers – in the water, and in life.
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