I’ve always loved the sensation of diving into a body of water. The minor shock of going from the element of air, propelled by motion and assisted by gravity, and then immersion in the element of water. It’s often a trust exercise for me, and a thrill — and a baptism, a cleansing, and an awakening. Immersion and then buoyancy — a source of great joy — a sense of being held and held up, a surprising transition.
There’s a dock on a lake in New Hampshire where for the past few summers, a dive into cool water on a hot day was transformative. Seven Springs near Shrine Mont in the Shenandoah Valley holds deep, cold water, not suitable for diving, but a nose-holding jump has almost stopped my heart a few times. And summers ago in Maine, a dock dive into the waters of Eggemoggin Reach required no toe-testing, no consideration, just commitment. About three minutes in the water would leave any human unable to feel their extremities, but also feeling extremely alive.
I have the great blessing of belonging to a local pool, where in the cool of an early morning or in the heat of a sunny afternoon, that first head-long dive begins an immersive prayer-time for me. I feel immersed in all that is good, light plays on the water invitingly and burdens are washed away. My soul is afloat, perspective renewed, breathing regulated. It has become deep, deep prayer time for me.
In this time of multiple Pandemics, grief and loss, fear, uncertainty and painful re-awakening to injustice, I hope you can find your immersion — an immersion in grace, in assurance, in an abiding hope — and in that immersion, find yourself held and held up, awash in love and the assurance of ongoing restitution and resolution.