two hours of diving. I don’t exactly swim. I dive. each ten meters come back up on the surface, catch my breath, and then again. I keep my eyes opened, blue darkness surrounding me, silence. I can hear my heartbeat, I’ve learned how to slow it down. it took some time but after two weeks I am able to slow it down a little bit. it is all about having enough oxygen going through your bloodstream and breathing slowly despite the physical effort. what sound does your heart make? breathing out under water, watching the bubbles go up, trying to get to the surface before them. it’s our little race. diving to the bottom of the sea, sitting at the seabed turkish style. the moment I feel my body pressing down it is time to push myself up from the bottom. that moment is indescribable. like a dolphin I swim up, keeping my legs together. gasping for air, laughing. because no one knows. no one knows I was just sitting at the bottom, not moving. it’s a whole different world down there and it’s where I feel comfortable the most. I am alone, breathing and the sea responds. if you know how to listen, you can hear the sea. it speaks, it breathes, it lives. and when you’re down there, you’re part of it. I am not scared under water but there is respect. it has always been there. I take a minute or two to stabilize my breathing. and then again, I disappear into the deep darkness. nothing makes me feel more content than swimming in the sea. it’s like a private conversation.
September 12, 2011