I took this as a serious question, and so I gave it serious thought. Why DO I dive?
When I was a little girl, I somehow came up with three things I wanted to accomplish in my life ... I wanted to scuba dive, sky dive, and go to Africa. I have, of course, added more things to my list since then, but I never waivered from those original three goals.
I signed up for scuba classes after I was divorced. It was the first thing I had done for myself and on my own in many years. I will never forget my first ocean dive ... it was mind blowing ... a new world, with everything rockin' and rolling beneath the waves.
I have loved it from the beginning because I feel free, and because I feel privileged to be in a world most people never see. I love the diving itself ... the weightlessness, the multi-dimensions, the anti-gravity. I love the grace, fluidity, the way I can control my location in the water column with just my breath. I love the silence. I love the beauty I see in the ocean ... I wept on nearly every dive in Fiji because I felt I was in a holy place.
I love diving because sometimes, when it's really perfect, we can be part of the sea world ... the vast school of big-eyed jacks that has no beginning and no end but is always there at Dirty Rock off Cocos Island will silently part and let me in ... so I am part of the school. I look down at my own legs at Alcyone and see morays, free swimming, passing between my ankles ... no threat and no fear ... my beloved new husband and I "surf" in the bottom current off the bow of a tugboat that sunk off Cape Hatteras, within an arm's length of two big sand tigers ... we could reach out and touch them, but we treasure their presence and so we just surf beside them and breathe and smile. And so on and so on.
I love diving because I can always be better ... and because I learn something from every diver I meet, and from every dive I make.
(By the way, I did a tandem sky dive from 12,000 feet on my 46th birthday and was shocked to discover that I didn't like it at all ... for me, when I actually went out the door of the Twin Otter, it was instinctive fear that left no room for thought, and when I found I could form words in my mind again, I became motion sick ... totally unexpected! I have yet to get to Africa, but it's on the list!)
Thanks for asking this question!
When I was a little girl, I somehow came up with three things I wanted to accomplish in my life ... I wanted to scuba dive, sky dive, and go to Africa. I have, of course, added more things to my list since then, but I never waivered from those original three goals.
I signed up for scuba classes after I was divorced. It was the first thing I had done for myself and on my own in many years. I will never forget my first ocean dive ... it was mind blowing ... a new world, with everything rockin' and rolling beneath the waves.
I have loved it from the beginning because I feel free, and because I feel privileged to be in a world most people never see. I love the diving itself ... the weightlessness, the multi-dimensions, the anti-gravity. I love the grace, fluidity, the way I can control my location in the water column with just my breath. I love the silence. I love the beauty I see in the ocean ... I wept on nearly every dive in Fiji because I felt I was in a holy place.
I love diving because sometimes, when it's really perfect, we can be part of the sea world ... the vast school of big-eyed jacks that has no beginning and no end but is always there at Dirty Rock off Cocos Island will silently part and let me in ... so I am part of the school. I look down at my own legs at Alcyone and see morays, free swimming, passing between my ankles ... no threat and no fear ... my beloved new husband and I "surf" in the bottom current off the bow of a tugboat that sunk off Cape Hatteras, within an arm's length of two big sand tigers ... we could reach out and touch them, but we treasure their presence and so we just surf beside them and breathe and smile. And so on and so on.
I love diving because I can always be better ... and because I learn something from every diver I meet, and from every dive I make.
(By the way, I did a tandem sky dive from 12,000 feet on my 46th birthday and was shocked to discover that I didn't like it at all ... for me, when I actually went out the door of the Twin Otter, it was instinctive fear that left no room for thought, and when I found I could form words in my mind again, I became motion sick ... totally unexpected! I have yet to get to Africa, but it's on the list!)
Thanks for asking this question!