To dance with perilous heights, to conquer treacherous terrains, to taste the intoxicating thrill of adventure—these are my passions. But the unbound ocean has always been a different beast. The vast expanse of water holds a power that seems almost sentient, a force that defies comprehension. Its depths conceal a mysterious realm, an abyss that swallows everything in its relentless embrace. The ocean commands a respect that left no room for the arrogance or bravado I often practice. In fact, at nineteen, I had never even learned to swim.
One day, a friend approached me, his eyes glimmering with a mischievous twinkle. “Actually,” he said, “you don’t need to know how to swim to scuba dive.”
I arched an eyebrow, intrigued yet skeptical. “Interesting, but I don’t think it’s for me.”
“Oh, c’mon,” a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “don’t be a wuss!”
Reluctantly, I conceded, unable to resist the allure of the unknown. Soon, I found myself in of a pool facing a towering scuba instructor. He exuded an aura of calm reassurance. His voice was like a soothing melody amidst the cacophony of my worries. With patience and expertise, he guided me through the intricacies of diving, assuaging my fears with each step.
Thumbs up means higher. Thumbs down means lower. If at anytime I need to get out, I should cross my arms.
The day arrived, marked by the excited murmurs and the rhythmic lapping of waves against the hull of the boat. As I stepped aboard, I heard the clinking of scuba gear being prepared, and tasted the salty tang of the sea air intermingling with the anticipation that hung heavy in the atmosphere.
My equipment was heavy, a cumbersome armour that would both safeguard and bind me to the depths. The tank, a metallic sentinel, clung to my back, its contents a lifeline to a world inhospitable to the human lung. The breathing tube snaked its way into my mouth, its cold presence a constant reminder of my newfound vulnerability. An oxygen gauge, an oracle of my survival, glowed with the promise of measured breaths in an environment that defied all logic.
As I stepped to the edge of the boat, my instructor’s voice cut through the deep thumps of my racing heart. “Remember,” he said, “you are the captain of your own destiny. Embrace the ocean as it embraces you.”
With trembling limbs, I took the plunge. The moment my body broke the surface tension, a seismic shift occurred within me. Nothing could have prepared me for the world that unfolded beneath the waves—a cornucopia of life, both delicate and formidable, danced before my eyes. The ocean, a master painter, brushed strokes of vibrant colours across the tapestry of the coral reef, adorning it with hues that defied the limits of imagination.
I clung to an old, frayed rope, feeling the tenuousness of my existence. The descent, a descent into the unknown. The pressure bore down on me, a relentless weight that constricted my ears and eyes, leaving me gasping for air in the face of an inescapable reality. Then I let go.
In that moment, with my body as tense as the rocks surrounding me, I feared my own mortality. One wrong move, one lapse in judgment, could shatter the fragile equilibrium of life and death. The ocean, once an adversary, became a reflection of my own transience—a reminder that existence was a dance with destiny, and every breath held the promise of both triumph and tragedy.
But then, as if in answer to my consternation, a school of fish appeared, their iridescent scales—yellow and blue—shimmering in the aqueous cathedral. They moved with grace and unity, not a care for anything else. Their synchronized movements were a testament to the innate rhythm of life itself. I found solace in the harmony of their existence—a testament to the beauty that could flourish even in the darkest corners of the world.
As I drifted through that ethereal realm, I realized that there was peace in knowing that the world would continue its ceaseless dance with or without me. The weight of my mortality transformed into liberation, freeing me from my egotistical state. In the ocean’s embrace, I finally understood. The insignificance of my life against the backdrop of eternity was not a cause for despair, but a reason to revel in the sheer magnificence of existence.
And so, as I resurfaced from the depths, my heart brimming with gratitude, I marvelled at the boundless wonders I had witnessed. The ocean, once an indomitable foe, had become a benevolent teacher, bestowing upon me the wisdom of humility and the ecstasy of being alive. With this newfound reverence, I took my place next to my friends on the boat.
“We should do this again sometime.”