This is a phrase that’s been bandied about the house over the past couple of months, lovingly, even if a little pointedly. (laugh with me) Every part of our lives seems to have some digitization, online presence, or app. I find it annoying, jarring, and addictive. It’s not great. And a lot of it, while feeling very real, vanishes into to vapor really quickly. Texts, emails, IM messages, all give the sense of connection and in many ways they do if there’s already an established relationship, but the bandwidth is narrow and it’s not a replacement for in-the-world activities and interactions. With that in mind, my nephew has encouraged me in this new year to get involved in activities. “Touch grass, Aunt Becci.” He was specific. “Don’t just do activities you already like with people you already know–branch out.” So I took his advice.
I decided to schedule scuba classes during the month of February. This month is a difficult one because it’s the anniversary of Bryan passing. (Three years hardly seems possible.) Why not choose an activity that scares me and seems really difficult both physically and mentally? The first day in the pool, I almost got out and left. Swimming has been a part of my life since I was a kid. I learned from older siblings, I spent nearly every summer from the time I was nine until I was 16 in a pool. Ohio University offered a variety of swimming, diving, and aqua aerobics PE classes and I took every one while attending undergrad. But I’d only been snorkeling once when I was eleven. I don’t swim with a mask, or snorkel, or fins. My breathing became rushed and panicked. The instructors have been endlessly patient with me. Once I practiced with my mask and snorkel, practicing with the regulator and BC device came next. Swimming is about being fast and strong. Scuba is about being deliberate, calm, slow, and methodical. It’s counter-intuitive to my body’s muscle memory which I’m paintstakingly retraining for this new skill.
Being present. Being calm. Just breathing. Slow. Steady. Focused. Relaxed. All of this is the essential while also carrying a buoyancy vest with weights, an air tank, the regulator, the back-up, the gauge, and the inflator hose. Scuba is physics, anatomy and physiology, marine biology, psychology, and philosophy. It’s a lot to pack into one month and I’ll admit, I’m disappointed I’m not ready to take my test yet, but I’m incredibly proud that in every class, I’ve progressed and learned. I’ve touched grass. More classes are on the horizon, but I’m glad for more practice at developing the muscle memory. And maybe it’ll be just a little bit warmer when I do my open water dives.
Beyond the physical and mental challenges, I’ve had the opportunity to meet several kind, patient, professional, interesting instructors who have helped me go from nearly walking away to increasing confidence and competence. I’m also one of four students and the only woman. The guys have been kind and supportive. Two will be taking their open water dives this weekend and I’m eager to learn of what I’m sure will be their rousing success. And I know the other student who is just a little behind like me will keep after it, too. I’m not sure I will be a regular scuba diver, but I would like to be able travel to warmer places that have colorful sea life and get to see it in person. Who knows, maybe once I’m certified I will want to participate in more PNW dives. It’ll be summer before we know it.
The act of doing something so far outside my comfort zone reminds me that I’m still alive, still growing, still learning, still meeting new people. I’ll be honest, it’s a whole lot harder than when I was 10 learning how to waterski, but accomplishing something when it’s harder means even more.
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Feryl Files 