New England in February, not the time you think about jumping into the ocean. I mean the water’s frigidly cold in July.
I’m lucky to live in a magical place, a little slice of heaven that allows me access to a beautiful brackish water bay. I’ve been practicing cold dip as of late, submerging myself in cold water for minutes at a time. Super healthy on many levels. Not comfortable, just saying.
Yesterday I went in.
I awoke to a gentle, cold rain splashing down on the roof of my studio. Looking at the temperature I was amazed to see 58 degrees appear on my phone. Should I do it? Should I walk down and get in the bay that had been frozen solid a mere two days earlier?
YES.
I suited up and stepped out into the rain. I felt as if I were (5) five years old again, waiting for my mother to yell out the window to remind me to put some clothes on or I’d catch cold.
I walked through the farm simply experiencing the moment. As I entered the last pasture leading to the water, I noticed my pace had quickened and I thought “where are you running to Mark?” I wondered to myself if I were running toward the future or away from the past?
In that moment I remembered my new mantra – Right Here, Right Now.
I stopped in my tracks, opened my arms wide, closed my eyes and tilted my head toward the sky. Feeling that amazing moment – the rain, the wind on my skin, the murmurings of the animals, I was right there in that moment.
After a few minutes I continued and arrived at the water’s edge. Still hesitant, still wondering how cold the water would be, still analyzing the pro or con to it all…. I stepped into the bay.
Ok, not too bad at the ankles. Let’s keep going. Mmmmm the thighs…starting to sting a little. Oh, then the magic moment when you reach waist level…. that fateful plunge in, that full commitment.
And there I was fully submerged, hyperventilating as if my body was going to overload and screech to a halt. But a funny thing happens after (30) thirty seconds or so…. everything calms down. The body adjusts. the hyperventilation ends and a soothing sense of calm envelops you. I could have stayed for hours (if my fingers and toes would cooperate by staying attached).
Slow, deep breaths and a connection to the HERE AND NOW.
Just say YES.
People may think you crazy.
Just say YES.
You might want to talk yourself out of it.
Just say YES.
Don’t analyze it.
Just say YES.
In that YES, your very life will open up.