Invisible leash on certitude
In August, the average sea temperature in Aveiro is 17.8°C. If you’re not Aveirense or a potential visitor to the Venice of Portugal, you might believe that’s a fact that you could get by life pretty well without knowing. You’re wrong.
You see, a 17.8°C mid-summer dive… That’s a deal-breaker for many. The aggressive waves aren’t a convincing argument either for a great day at the beach. Nor the constant wind that will blow anything but your mind away. Ah… If only the weather was more predictable, the wind was less harsh, the water was warmer… Aveiro would be much more comfortable.
It’s tempting to get caught up. On what could be, conscious of the other thousand climate possibilities. And the guessing, the dwelling, the possible drowning. So much that it barricades our perception. It’s where trauma resides, it’s where paranoia flourishes. So much that it heightens our innate desire to deconstruct and control variables, rather than succumb to the discomfort zone. After all, no matter how many times we run those variables on SPSS, all we get is high likelihood, not certitude.
And the sea is to be enjoyed as is — the surprise rocky surface as you walk into it, the microthermal shock when your head dives in, and the occasional wave slap that slides your bottoms off. So, why ever believe that we can really predict the next wavelengths by squinting our eyes at the oceanic horizon?
Deep down what really holds you back isn’t how your body will react to the coldness in the plunge. It’s the fear of shock in between state changes, right before you let go and give in.
Accordingly, you have two choices.
You can run into the coast. And remember that facing the shock in transition from one state to another— right before the blow when your head plummets into the upcoming wave — is just a simple trade of ephemeral anxiety for utter freedom and quietude.
Or you can forget. And passively lie on your towel watching the kids with their bums on the shore laughing at the foamy water tickling their toes; the silly woman vivaciously jumping in the fickle tide as droplets splash around her and on displeased neighboring strangers; or the floating man enjoying the five seconds of aquatic serenity before the ocean decides to pull another round of big waves. As you daydream about how badass it would be to get up from under a 27°C sun and into the cold water that is as initially uncomfortable as it could be life-changing.
This piece was originally written on August 29th, 2020.
