I dive because of the unknown. I ache for the unknown landscape of the ocean reefs, the flora and fauna, and all the things hidden from our surface view and understanding. I yearn for the unknown of myself, my limitations, my fears, the things I discover inside my own head as I listen to the sound of my breaths and the bubbles as they sail past.
I dive because I learn. I learn all the technical details of diving, the gases, the pressures, the usefulness and limitations of the gear. I learn about the world around me, the world beneath the waves. I learn from other people, the people who have gone before me, the people who guide me through the water. I learn about myself. I learn what brings me joy.
I dive for the community. For the people I meet on the journey, the camaraderie we discover and share on the boat on our way to the dive site. I look forward to the way we watch out for each other under the water, ever vigilant of one another’s lives and safety, ready to help a complete stranger in need. I bask in the community on this forum and the relationships I secretly envy between the long-time members.
I dive for the anticipation of future journeys. The careful planning of every trip, the research into dives sites and operators, the weighing of options fill me with giddy joy the months before every dive trip. I use Google street view to walk down streets, stand on the beach and gaze out over the water. I obsess over my gear; what will I need, what should I bring, is everything charged? I pack and unpack weeks in advance to make sure everything fits.
I dive for social consciousness. Diving takes us, sometimes, to far off places, unseen by the developed world and its decadent ebullience of material wealth. To bring school supplies for children, small microscopes so they can discover the world around them and look upon previously unknown. I travel to meet other people, eat other food, journey down other avenues and I travel because I dive.
I dive for joy. The joy of dropping into the water, feeling that first cold shock against my back and emerging, into the air with a smile on my face, bobbing on the surface, knowing what is to come. My heart pounds as I stare down into the darkness, bottom unseen as I let myself float, weightless, towards what I know will be everything for which I search. It has been brought to my attention that I smile too much underwater and that is why my mask always has a level of water at the bottom. I’m ok with that and I clear often.
I dive for myself. I live with crippling mental illness on a daily basis. I watch what it does to my family as I stand, powerless but living, against its devastating onslaught. I want to run away sometimes but I cannot. I must persevere and hold my family together the best I can, all the while praying for peace. I find my peace underwater. I wander through my memories and thoughts while I am diving and chastise myself for the harsh words I uttered, the resentments I harbored, and the pettiness of my actions. I grow every time I descend into the blue and for that I am grateful and I emerge a better person, recharged and refreshed to step back into my world with love and forgiveness, compassion and understanding. I dive for my sanity.
I dive for my future. I have too many children and have made too many mistakes to even imagine a leisurely retirement. I take the PADI courses and get in the dives in the hope of becoming a dive master, an instructor even, to fill my days and bank account in my waning years. I don’t need much. I have learned to live with little and prefer it. I want my gear, sand between my toes, the wind in my face as the boat marches across the breaks. This will fill my final days and satisfy my wanting heart.
Why do you dive?
I dive because I learn. I learn all the technical details of diving, the gases, the pressures, the usefulness and limitations of the gear. I learn about the world around me, the world beneath the waves. I learn from other people, the people who have gone before me, the people who guide me through the water. I learn about myself. I learn what brings me joy.
I dive for the community. For the people I meet on the journey, the camaraderie we discover and share on the boat on our way to the dive site. I look forward to the way we watch out for each other under the water, ever vigilant of one another’s lives and safety, ready to help a complete stranger in need. I bask in the community on this forum and the relationships I secretly envy between the long-time members.
I dive for the anticipation of future journeys. The careful planning of every trip, the research into dives sites and operators, the weighing of options fill me with giddy joy the months before every dive trip. I use Google street view to walk down streets, stand on the beach and gaze out over the water. I obsess over my gear; what will I need, what should I bring, is everything charged? I pack and unpack weeks in advance to make sure everything fits.
I dive for social consciousness. Diving takes us, sometimes, to far off places, unseen by the developed world and its decadent ebullience of material wealth. To bring school supplies for children, small microscopes so they can discover the world around them and look upon previously unknown. I travel to meet other people, eat other food, journey down other avenues and I travel because I dive.
I dive for joy. The joy of dropping into the water, feeling that first cold shock against my back and emerging, into the air with a smile on my face, bobbing on the surface, knowing what is to come. My heart pounds as I stare down into the darkness, bottom unseen as I let myself float, weightless, towards what I know will be everything for which I search. It has been brought to my attention that I smile too much underwater and that is why my mask always has a level of water at the bottom. I’m ok with that and I clear often.
I dive for myself. I live with crippling mental illness on a daily basis. I watch what it does to my family as I stand, powerless but living, against its devastating onslaught. I want to run away sometimes but I cannot. I must persevere and hold my family together the best I can, all the while praying for peace. I find my peace underwater. I wander through my memories and thoughts while I am diving and chastise myself for the harsh words I uttered, the resentments I harbored, and the pettiness of my actions. I grow every time I descend into the blue and for that I am grateful and I emerge a better person, recharged and refreshed to step back into my world with love and forgiveness, compassion and understanding. I dive for my sanity.
I dive for my future. I have too many children and have made too many mistakes to even imagine a leisurely retirement. I take the PADI courses and get in the dives in the hope of becoming a dive master, an instructor even, to fill my days and bank account in my waning years. I don’t need much. I have learned to live with little and prefer it. I want my gear, sand between my toes, the wind in my face as the boat marches across the breaks. This will fill my final days and satisfy my wanting heart.
Why do you dive?
