Paddling to Shore | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Paddling to Shore | Previous Challenge Entry
By Maria Lee
03/11/14
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Paddling to Shore

I am intrigued by the ability brain has to remember past experiences, some pleasant and others, on the contrary, that I wish would never come to mind again. I’ve found that looking for the lessons to be learnt in those episodes is the best way to handle them.

As a pre-teen, in the 1960’s, my sister’s and her friends’ leisure time was spent basking in the hot sun at the beach, glistening with suntan oil over their bodies around their bathing suits with a zeal to achieve a stunning darker complexion. Today, the health experts warn against the hazard of excessive sun exposure.

Lying in the hot sun was no fun to me as an active youngster. I would rather be in the water swimming in the ocean bobbing up and down with the waves. I preferred to feel water splashing on my face and taste the saltiness of it than lying in the roasting ultraviolet rays.

My thrill was watching out for the waves when they came into shore so I could be ready to swim with them to the shoreline almost like the way surfers ride them. On one occasion I was surprised by the current that came in, pulling me away into the deep end of the ocean where my toes searched to touch the sea floor. I felt nothing and this made me feel insecure and not in control.

I thought to myself, “This is scary, I must get closer to land away from the deep end”, I gulped down salty water, coughing up some at the same time. I was under water, holding my breath, hands and feet working against the under current striving to surface above the great ocean.

Up I came gasping for air, and looking around to see how close I was to the rest of the people knowing that if they were visible, it meant I hadn’t drifted too far out at sea. I was comforted to see swimmers and children playing in the water. The wind was blowing and the waves constantly rolled in, but not as big as the last one that took me off course.

I was tired and regained confidence in my swimming. The back stroke was the best way to land without exerting much effort because my body would float and get wash in with the waves. At that moment, I was thankful my mother insisted that my siblings and I took swimming lessons. While slowly paddling inland I listened to the water splashing at each stroke I made.

Phew! What a relief it was to reach safety. I flopped myself on the sea shore among the weeds, sprawled out exhausted and extremely thankful to God I made it back alive. My experience was scary and it took all I had to get out of the deep end of the ocean and back to land where the people were.

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