They say we live in an age of anaesthetics. We are dulled, depressed and often desensitised by the media. This is because we are over-stimulated by the world around us. They say that us gen-y-ers can no longer focus, and enjoy the natural world.
Here is a picture of me, a couple hours earlier.
My hands were type on the laptop in front of me, while watching television sounded on mute because I am listening to music through my earphones that are plugged into my laptop. I am also drinking tea and attempting to dip tim-tams in and suck the tea through the middle. The sun is streaking in, heating up my right leg. Dinner will be ready in five minutes.
“Are you going to be writing a blog post while eating dinner?” Mum asks,
I may be a little busy. Well, very over-stimulated.
After dinner I decided I needed to go for a swim. I stole mum’s goggles and determination and threw my things into the car. I drove down to the local beach pool, already feeling refreshed…
I arrived to see an array of bodies, young and old. They were dripping wet, wrapped in towels and twisted goggles. It was a stunning January evening, just after 7pm. Cirrus clouds swept across the sky, the sun colouring them in spots of pink, orange and cream. A warm breeze came across and beckoned me into the water.
I flip flopped off my thongs and strapped on my goggles, in an awkward, cumbersome way. I jumped in the pool, careful not to jump too deep as I forget how deep these beach pools are. I glide off the wall with butterfly kick then attempt at freestyle. My nose clogged with water as I try to rhyme “bubble-two-three-turn-and-breathe”. The swimming lessons never paid off and I settled for a simple breaststroke.
I felt like I was exercising. My muscles pulled tightly, not so as too hurt but just to remind me that they were there. Enough to remind me that this was exercise, not simply pure aesthetic joy.
And Mum says, “like making jelly, the simplicity of swimming freestlye [or breaststroke in my case] magically produces a substance that will congeal. Tomorrow there will be something tangible, something sweet and slightly more solid than the thoughts of today.”
I am magically taken to a place of calm and meditation. My thoughts are lulled to form a melody at the rhythm of my frequent stroke. And the tomorrow I fear that which will be tangible will be my sore muscles, yet I am still calmly thankful and free.
After (not so many) laps, I reached the pool’s edge and pulled myself up. I climbed to the end wooden pier and lay down under the evening sky. It swirled softly as I recovered from my (strenuous) laps and regained my balance. It was a nice disequilibrium, enough to feel dazed but not ill at ease. I watched the water beside me move swiftly across the pool, over the rocks and into the sea. Across the rocks, the waves were spurting like a whale’s spout at frequent intervals.
The world returned again to its normal upright position as I sat, already drip-dried. The sea salt began to dry into a light mask on my back so I collected my things to venture home.
I came home to my computer but felt useless with it, just how I felt useless driving on the roads after watching avatar.
I thanked God for the sun and the sea. I asked him that he would help me to feel the world that he’d created for me.