We all strive to be happy. So that we may be happy, we set goals and set out to reach them, feeling a sense of accomplishment and self-satisfaction upon arrival. I did just that, following a long-time dream to speak Spanish by packing up and moving to the Dominican Republic. To my amazement, I have found a sort of grounded satisfaction that I wonder if I would ever have been able to recognize had I not come. I understand happiness to be a different animal now, consisting of living a full life - full of food, friends, dancing, sun and water, yoga, reading, and anything else that enriches me (but without the American preoccupation with being an interesting, well-rounded person).
This remodeled understanding of happiness has somehow given me room to fully experience an element of life I always wanted to avoid: intense emotion. Back home, I felt like a failure each time I had a massive attack of emotion or insecurity. Everyone around me generally seemed to be on top of things, including their emotions and depression, while I could sink in an instant. Occasionally, depression and insecurity would affect my work, my familial and friend relationships, and did repeatedly prevent me from seeking out a relationship with a man who was my equal.
I came to this country to follow a dream and instead, I've been led, have been opened against all my attempts to maintain my status quo. I have lost my grandfather, have opened my heart to love, and the other day, I could have drowned in the ocean.
My friend Rebecca and I went to the beach, Playa Dorada, where the waves seemed more frequent and frothy than usual. She was on vacation and wanted to take me snorkeling to see fish by the coral before leaving. I had wanted to go, but had never had the time or a serious inclination. The water was beautiful: bright blue-green water with overcast skies. The wind made the air cooler than any time I had been there before, and I shivered when we stepped out into the water.
I had never snorkeled before so Rebecca gave me the quick and dirty explanation on how to breathe through the mask. Though not rocket science, it is not as easy as one might imagine. Add to this the fact that I had spent the previous night out late with friends. I was dehydrated and tired. Add to that fact the fact that my grandfather had died one week before, and I watched the funeral from my bedroom by Skype. Add to that fact the fact that two days before he died, I started falling in love - with an equal in a sea of unequals - in the midst of a decade of feeling like I would never love anyone the way I did my first. One came along which could well be mas profundo. Breathing normally has been difficult since then, as I explored heart opening in a time of muted sorrow, as I to strive to live where I felt suddenly exposed and afraid. We swam out a little bit; my breathing shuddered through the mask. I struggled to inhale fresh air. More than once, I felt the urge to hyperventilate but stopped just short, gaining control as I got used to the unintuitive way of tube breathing.
As we started to explore the rocks where the fish would be, I stayed only on the surface. Going under to see the fishies, as it was suggested, then coming up to spew water out of the tube like an animal with a blowhole seemed out of the question given my breathing troubles. I was able to see about 3 bright blue fish before I realized how much trouble I was having swimming. The waves pulled me backwards as I tried to stand on rocks below the surface. I fought back to gain my balance but each time the water pulled harder and knocked me out towards sea. Without knowing it, we had swum into a current that was very strong and very fast. Before I could understand what was going on, I looked up to see that we were over fifty meters from shore. We had actually been in the water snorkeling for about 5 minutes and had certainly not been swimming any fifty meters.
At that moment, I wanted to get out, to get back to shore. I started to swim in that direction, but I was caught. I turned over on my back, which is a better position for my scare-dy swimming self. I'm from the mountains; not the sea! I know nothing about its danger except to know that it can be dangerous. I thought how utterly unprepared I was, farther from shore than I liked to be, with a strong current trying to pull me father, and no lifeguards anywhere in sight. On my back, in my safe position, I struggled not to be swept farther. It didn't take more than thirty seconds of swimming without advancing any closer to shore for me to be tired.
It took only one second longer to realize that this is how people drown. This was how people become tired, lose control over their mind, freak out, and go down. It was a lucky break that the current took me back to the rocks, and I met Rebecca there for a rest. Once we were stable, we looked around and could clearly see the current running quickly out to sea. I thought for sure that we'd have a hard time getting back to shore, given my failed attempt. However Rebecca said, "No, we'll just swim back slowly together and we'll be alright." Were it not for her calm, I might have really panicked. I was halfway there, thinking that the impending afternoon tide would sweep us off the coral and into the Atlantic.
Following Rebecca's lead, we headed towards shore slowly. Through the goggles, I could see her swimming beside me. We left the current without any problems, and were back on the shore safely within minutes. As we emerged and walked along the beach in silence, I felt like I had nearly died. Nothing happened, really. I didn't go under, I didn't breathe in any water, and I technically didn't even start to drown. But I knew I had been close to panicking out there. All of the sentimientos building inside of me had nearly taken over my mind and body, and I had been in danger. The power of positive thinking is indeed powerful, but in a case like this, there was nothing to do but feel the weight of fear and insecurity pressing on my chest. I could not pretend to Rebecca that this had been fun.
The power of this event is evident. Sorrow, fear, hope, and love are all around me; yet, instead of feeling weighed down by the immensity of these emotions, I just feel viva.
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