As I’m writing this I’m sitting in a dark church, by instruction of my mom, who keeps trying to convert me back to Catholicism and told me to go to speak to el Santisimo.

I drove out of the city about 40 minutes to the first church. Closed. A frequent enough occurrence that’s beginning to make me feel like they’re trying to keep me out.

I get back on google maps and search for catholic churches near me. “Has to be catholic or it doesn’t count”. I find one, drive 20 minutes, pull up to their empty parking lot, park the car near a door on the side of the building and start walking towards it, certain will be closed. By some miracle the side door is open. I’m guessing someone forgot to lock this specific door as I don’t think the church is open by the fact that I am in an empty church sitting alone in darkness lit by red candles.

I had a lot to reflect on, which I did most of on the car ride over. So when I arrived and sat down my mind began to wander instead. I've been sitting on this pew for an hour, maybe two, and haven’t said much—and by “said” I mean the conversations that go on in my head at the other end of my therapy sessions with the higher power out in the vast universe— but the inspiration to go on my notes app and write this story down came to me, so here it is.

Oahu, Hawaii: December 2023: Konako, Miguel and I had gone out to the Makapuu Beach Park. I had craved to get in the water but the waves had grown and there were swim advisories posted that day at the entrance of the beach. I don’t recommend anyone to ignore advisories but that’s what I did.

We had drove an hour or so around the island looking for a good beach and settled on this one before seeing the swim advisories. We were the only people there. We laid our towels down and pulled out the poke we had bought from the back counter of a local market. For a good half hour we sat there talking and observing the water.

I kept weighting my options about getting in. We had driven all this way and I wanted to get in the water. I’ve swam in the ocean a handful of times, apparently enough to have the confidence to swim out there despite the warning and empty beach. To my credit, I’ll add that the shape of the beach was bay-ish, generally one can feel safer about the ocean water when it’s in a bay-ish shape. For these reasons I decided to get in.

To give a sense of what the water looked like that day, there was a section of consecutive waves all with white tops for a portion near the shore but their height was moderate and further past the waves the water looked calm. In my limited knowledge of swimming in the ocean I’ve been taught one basic skill, if the top of the wave appears clear you’re safe to stay afloat, any hint of white at the top of wave, GO UNDER! (learned that lesson before). I figured if I could swim past the series of white topped waves I would be safe to relax in the water.

I walked up to the shore and then ran into the water, diving at a small wave, kept swimming, passing the first series of white tops then the second and third, by the fourth one I was floating in the ocean, head above the water staring at the waves in front of me as they came in. It was LOUD. I was immersed in the water and it was nice. As I swam further into the ocean I could feel the strong push of the underwater back to shore. This reassured me that I wouldn’t be pulled further into the ocean against my will.

After a few minutes in the water, enjoying what felt like the eye of the storm, something told me to let myself be taken back to shore through the natural push of the waves. I decided to listen. So when the next big wave came in, I took a deep breath and went underwater, letting the push take me back to shore, a complete surrender.

This is where the magic happened, for a brief moment my whole being felt in state of flow, of trust, and it felt magical to be underwater, my whole body guided against my will. I really don’t think I’ll do a good job articulating how magical that brief moment felt to me. I didn’t know where it would take me, but I knew I was safe and I let it all go, I let myself be guided by the unfathomable force of the ocean. I was a strand of seaweed being pulled through the water, that’s what I became in that moment.

When I resurfaced I realized the ocean had moved me much further than I had thought, towards the rocks that were bordering the bay. I placed my feet on a sturdy rock next to me positioning myself before the next wave’s push came in. Above the surface the scene must have looked tumultuous, but underwater I was immersed in the ocean’s push, secured by the rock at my feet. I came back out after the push had subsided and had only a few seconds before going back underwater as the next wave crashed above me. I’m not actually sure how long I was playing this game of “duck” with the ocean, but in my mind, it was the third wave that a lifeguard showed up, extended his hand towards me and pulled me towards sandier ground where I could stand. We ran out of the water and back to shore.

Miguel and Konako were standing. They had grown worried because they were calling out to me with no response. I had no idea, I didn’t realize how much of their voices I hadn’t been able to hear.

I understand that my audience is broad, and this story runs the risk of making light of the dangers that can happen when swimming in the ocean, please be mindful that the ocean is a very powerful force and is to be respected .

As I sat on this pew, retelling this story on my notes app, I got the answer that I had spent all day searching for. An answer that I may one day be able to provide more clarity about here on my site. If and when I do, I’ll make sure to come back to this post and include a link for those curious to know more.

Lessons from the ocean and the parallels of life, thank you.