Swimming Toward Beauty and Bliss

                               Immersed in the joy of swimming in nature. (Image from Pexels via Pixabay)

In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove upon him. And a voice came from the heavens, “You are my Son, the Beloved;  with you I am well pleased.”

Mark 1: 9-11 NRSVue

 A couple of weeks ago, during the heatwave now known as the Summer of 2005, we went to North Beach Provincial Park with our four grandchildren and their parents. The waves on Lake Ontario were rolling in but weren't overwhelming so we were able to do a fair amount of watery frolicking with the kids, ages five to twelve. They all love being in the water and the oldest is becoming an accomplished swimmer. 

We've had the opportunity to do what the Brits call "wild swimming" and Canadians call, well, swimming, ten times or more this summer. The wild part in Britain refers to swimming in lakes and rivers, something we tend to take for granted here. Pools are great, swimming en plein air is even better. 

I came upon an excerpt from a book called The Spirituality Gap by Abi Millar and a chapter on nature spirituality. Here are a few paragraphs about swimming: 

It’s a balmy morning in early June, the first day that truly feels like summer. In honor of the season’s arrival, I book a slot at my local swimming lake and slip into a swimsuit. The water, warm and welcoming, cradles my body as I drift into a gentle lap around the perimeter. Dragonflies hover midair. Ducks bob along nearby. The light shimmers across the surface, and I feel myself loosen—mind, body, breath.

Floating on my back, I’m suddenly time-traveling—back to childhood holidays, afternoons in swimming pools, whole worlds built in my imagination. It’s like time has folded in on itself, delivering me to some unbroken inner self. Maybe that’s what it means to be “in the now.” Here, I’m not zipping past nature or admiring it at a distance. I’m in it. Held by it. Engulfed.

There’s a magic to wild swimming, and clearly I’m not alone in sensing it. In a 2022 poll from the Outdoor Swimming Society, 94% of members said the primary reason they swim outside is joy. Over half also named spiritual reasons—seeking a connection with nature and the deeper self.

The author notes the challenges of climate change and the urgency of addressing it, as well as our grief over what has changed and is now the proverbial freight train of dire circumstances. She offers this: 

The door to the woods, as poet Mary Oliver once wrote, is the door to the temple. But what does that mean when the woods are burning? When the temple is crumbling?

Perhaps it means this: that joy and grief are not opposites. That reverence and rage can live in the same breath. That being awake to the beauty of the Earth doesn’t mean denying its peril—but loving it even more fiercely because of it.

This is so well said. 

I'm convinced that while there is no scriptural evidence to support this contention, Jesus and the Galilee disciples were swimmers and they enjoyed it. As boys growing up near the lake, why wouldn't they, although Peter may have panicked when he attempted to walk on water. 

Please say a prayer for us as we take the icy baptismal plunge into the waters of the North Atlantic while we are in Newfoundland, perhaps several times.  The irony is that while the water will be cold it is much milder than it was when we lived there nearly half a century ago, and much of the province is tinder dry due to drought. We will do our best to be awake to the beauty around us. You may be able to hear our gasps and hoots from Southern Ontario.