What Surfaces in Silence
After months away from the pool, I rediscovered one of the few places where nothing fills the silence.
Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash
The coolness of the water was a shock to my system. But it’s always better when you just bite the bullet and go all the way into the swimming pool, rather than going inch by inch. That sort of bucks the saying my mom likes to use: “Inch by inch, life’s a cinch. Yard by yard, life’s hard.” Maybe it’s more of a general principle than a rule.
This was my first time back in the pool in several months. Surgery and another physical ailment have kept me away, but I finally got the all clear, so I took the plunge. The pool is meant to replace my walking routine, given my lower back problems.
Someone was in “my” lane, so I slipped under the lane line (the rope that divides the swimming lanes) and took the middle lane. The woman who got in first was doing methodical laps, which is better than what I do. I just walk. We’re all there for one reason or another. But we are all there, showing up.
I set my watch to water fitness mode and took a few steps before stopping to lean slightly backward to test my back. My pain was minimal, so I started my 40-minute walking routine. Maybe a third of the way through it, I settled into a rhythm. But more than that, I settled into the silence, except for the woman next to me who slapped the water with each stroke.
It’s been a while since I didn’t fill the silence with music (earbuds), my Kindle, my phone or something else – not just in the pool but anywhere. I’ve seen people wear earbuds in the pool, but that always freaks me out. I don’t know if mine are waterproof or not. Even if they are, I think I’d opt for the silence.
My mind meandered like a slow-moving brook through several topics as I logged laps – an old Steven Curtis Chapman song, friends who are celebrating birthdays this week, an essay book I’m reading. None of it felt hurried, though. I wasn’t biding my time until I got out of the pool so I could begin tackling a to-do list. Instead, it felt more … contemplative.
As I got out of the pool, a man named Mark entered the pool area and began stretching. I’ve had a couple of conversations with him in the past. He drives quite a few miles just to get into the pool at this particular gym each week. His hometown only has one pool, but it’s too small for him to do laps. He’s serious enough about swimming to bring a huge clock that stands just outside the pool so he can look up and see his lap times.
Again, we’re all there for different reasons.
I’m there because it’s one of the few active things I can still do. But I had forgotten that I enjoy the contemplative silence as I put one foot in front of the other. Every once in a while, especially at night, I’ll drive from point A to point B without switching on the radio. As my tires eat up the miles in silence, my mind slows as I chew on something.
I hope you have a pool. Maybe it’s your morning walk, or getting your hands dirty in your garden or sitting on your front porch swing as the sun rises. Whatever it is, no matter who big the temptation, don’t race to fill the silence.
