I know the world isn’t quite as doomed as it appears. And… I know there’s work to be done. So tell me please, what do you need right now? What I need, every moment, is time to breathe.
Publishing News!
Early last year I had the most delightful shock of my life. Our publisher, Crossroad Press, told us my dream narrator had agreed to create the audiobook of ANGEL FALLS, the YA/Crossover novel co-written with my partner, David Surface. As of today, that audiobook is in the world and available at Audible.com (or through Amazon). Kirby Heyborne does a stellar job with the story and all the voices, so please check it out!
Meanwhile, back at the ranch…
I love to swim, don’t you? Love the water, being in it, watching it, living near. I can see the Hudson River as I type and it’s the best move I’ve ever made, to this house on a hill with a this view.
Swimming is about keeping your head above water, or at least enough to grab those necessary breaths. You throw someone who can’t swim into deep water and they plummet. No flotation at all. Flailing might get them above water briefly, but is exhausting and leads faster to drowning.
Like walking, in which each step is simply a controlled fall, swimming entails trust. When you walk, you trust the ground to meet your foot in a manageable way, your body to balance on the new leg, letting the old one swing free. If you step on uneven ground, you trust your foot-ankle-leg-hip-back-arms to adjust and keep you upright, or at least catch you when you fall. In other words you trust in gravity. In swimming, it’s almost the opposite. In order to stay afloat, you trust in the buoyancy of water, the anti-gravity.
If you throw a swimmer into the water (if you can catch them before they dive) they will probably keep their head above water, or if not, remain submerged only briefly and come up laughing. How is this so? Take two people, same height, weight, age, one swimmer one non and throw them in the deep end, and only one will stay afloat. (To be kind, don’t actually do this, but if you do, promise me you’ll rescue the non-swimmer right away.)
Why is this? Because the swimmer trusts the water, loves it in fact. They know the water will support them. With a few light kicks, with gentle arms pulling through, they not only stay upright, but move through the water. The oxygen inside their lungs and the specific gravity in their fat cells all combine to make the water push them toward the sky.
So, the first step is trust.
Second step, skill.
I learned to swim when I was in grade school; front crawl, back-stroke, breast-stroke, side-stroke (“reach for the apple, put it in your pouch”). The same strokes I’ve used all my life since, the same ones I use in my lap-swim routine today.
But most importantly, I learned how to breathe. It’s fascinating how such an involuntary action, breath, can become out of control in a hurry. Such as a panic attack, or any time you worry about it. When you hyperventilate, you’re bringing in too much oxygen, which sounds weird, but is true. The symptoms, shortness of breath, dizziness, confusion, are from lack of carbon dioxide. What?! I thought that little CO2 was what we needed to expel, but turns out that too little can be just as damaging as too much. Hence the paper bag.
When learning to meditate, the very first instruction is to follow the breath. And one of the first things learned, is how this affects the action. The minute you focus on your breathing, you change how you breathe. At first, you may breathe faster, you’re nervous, you’re worried about doing it right. But after a few moments, after the meditation teacher advises you to “breathe naturally”, your breath becomes slower, increasingly peaceful. We follow the breath in meditation because it’s simple, easy to contemplate, and completely natural. We say “natural as breath.” And when you let it, that is what the breath becomes.
In swimming, it’s about pace. The faster you swim, the more air you need to take in, but half the time your face is in the water. So how does this work? Like breathing out of the water, the more you think about it the harder it becomes. You have to learn to pace your breaths. The more confident you become with breathing, the better your strokes.
So why does this matter? Most people never learn to swim. But everyone knows how to breathe. And in this world, in these times, breathing may be the only thing completely within our control.
So do it. Take a deep breath in…hold it…let it out.
You’re not alone. We’ve got this.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this month’s installment of ILLUMINATE. Stay tuned for more of my thought pieces, illuminated or dim, and more publishing news coming down the pike. If you write, may your muse remain ever close. If you read, may all the books on your wish list find their way to you. Happy Spring! And if you’re reading this from a friend (or browsing on Substack) and want to subscribe, please click the button below. It’s free!
See you soon!