First, cool water surrounds my feet, legs, belly, shoulders. And then it's the sound. Or rather, the lack of sound. My head goes underwater, and I am saturated by a muffled quiet. The water supports me unconditionally as I exhale, I can almost feel the heartbeat of the water, then I come to the surface and breathe.
My nephew, Noah was in federal prison for seven years. During that time, he couldn't wear what he wanted, couldn't eat what he wanted, couldn't choose who to live with ... and he couldn't be fully immersed in water. The innumerable restrictions of prison life are mind blowing but not being able to be immersed, this feels particularly painful.
I know that the reasoning behind the restriction is to protect prisoners from the real danger of self-harm. So, while I get this heartbreaking rule, it feels like a deep loss. There is something so healing and restorative about being fully in water. The thought of losing that sensation takes my breath away.
Three days after breaking my foot in July, I was lucky enough to be floating in my niece Morgan's (Noah's sister!) pool. I sorted out a way to crabwalk myself to the edge, take off my Robo-boot, and slide into the water. Each time, the cool clear pool swoosh soothed my jangled nervous system. After hobbling on crutches and feeling awkward on land, in the water I moved -- weightless and effortless. I even borrowed a couple of the kids' pool noodles and found a way to float with my foot elevated which was a certain kind of genius, I have to say.
Not everyone loves being immersed in water, I know. But being immersed in SOMEthing is a deeply human enterprise.
Artists and athletes might call it the flow state. Academics and writers might call it a deep dive (or a rabbit hole!). Learners and meditators might call it an intensive or a retreat. Whatever you call it, the choice to immerse yourself offers calm, healing, and intrinsic happiness.
Whenever we immerse ourselves, we let go of distraction and busyness to focus on something. Whether it's playing an instrument, researching the life of Anna Mani or making your mother's gazpacho recipe, diving fully into whatever we are doing creates focus. The flits and flights of attention settle while we are immersed. And with that focus comes a quieting of mind and nervous system, even if your activity is a physical one. The noisiness fades into the background. Immersing yourself especially in something you choose to do for its own sake, leads to intrinsic satisfaction rather than relying on outside affirmation to feel good about it.
What do you love to be immersed in? What do you not allow yourself to be immersed in because it seems impractical or not productive? If you could take time to immerse in something today, what might it be?
As much as I love the feel of the water, for me, it's the quiet. Even when I slide myself into the river under the waterfall, the shush of falling water quiets to a hum. I have the same sensation when I make a piece of art, teach a class or write here to y'all: focused flow.
Immersion is medicine. Dive in.