There I go.
Just when I think I’ve got things sorted, I go and do the contrary. And I clearly remember saying: ‘I’m so not saying “I remember when…”. That’s ageing.’
So much for saying never.
Walking by the seaside last week I observed a group of four guys and two young women gearing up for their scuba dive.
Before I could stop myself, the thought, perfectly formed, popped into my mind: I remember when I used to scuba dive.
My hope, back when I became an accredited scuba diver, had been to find that special someone with whom to spend the rest of my life and who was also my scuba-buddy.
But personal hopes and dreams are one thing, life and people quite another.
And sometimes, you forgo one thing for something (or someone) better. In choosing my lovely I decided to find another way of feeling that same sensation of freedom and exhilaration I used to feel when scuba diving.
I discovered indulging one of my other loves is one way of doing this.
Twenty minutes of continuous swimming and my body breaks free from the confines of any muscular tension. At the forty to fifty minute mark, my spirits soar. Smiling to myself, aware of a warm, happy inner glow, I think: Yes, life is good.
So, perhaps, remembering has its merits.
Perhaps using one’s memory, learning, and life experience to make connections, find patterns, and see similarities as a way of enhancing one’s life is a good thing.
Because to me, I see a similarity between scuba diving and relationships; that is, scuba diving, like a successful marriage or partnership, requires two buddies.
Two buddies who look out for each other. Two buddies ensuring both return safely to shore. Two buddies who share the thrill of the adventure with tales to tell afterwards. Two buddies with a store of experiences in common about which to reminisce.
So then, no more absolutes.
Life is altogether too fluid and in a state of flux for immutable, arbitrary rules.
I’ve learned my lesson: be like fluid to get the best out of life.
Copyright Jo 2015