to be in it

Pickle and I took our first dip in Puget Sound.

I was ready. I’ve missed the water the past few months. I look at it everyday and all I want is to unexplainably be in it. So we took the sunshine and the heat and walked across the bridge to dip our toes into the icy, salty water.

I did, anyways. Pickle stood along the edge, not quite sure what to do. She looked at me with eyes that said, “There’s no way.” She sniffed at the rocks and nibbled on washed ashore sea critters, pulling farther and farther from where I stood, small waves prickling my ankles.

She thought she could get away.

I walked ashore and picked her up. Leash, collar, and all, we dipped into the water. I carried her in, she grasped at me like a child being pulled from her mother. Unfortunately, her thumbs are useless, and she had no grasp, so down she went. I sat her into the chilly water, and like a wind-up toy, her legs started clunking against the water’s surface and voila! She was swimming…straight back to shore.

Ears down, nose down, she looked at me with sadder eyes that said, “I do not like it one bit!”

We went to a different beach where a man was throwing a Frisbee into the water and his little mini Aussie was fetching it. Pickle was intrigued by the Frisbee but more than anything just wanted to say hi to the other dog. The other dog just wanted to play Frisbee.

Pickle watched the plastic disc splash and she started as the other pup plunged in. When her toes hit the water, Pickle stopped until the other dog came back, promptly avoiding Pickle to return the disc to the man for another fetch. One every few throws, Pickle would go for it—she would dive right in and chase the other dog.

As I watched, I thought she was silly. Why not go all in every time? Why not always go for the swim?

It didn’t take me long to realize I’ve been having the same reaction to god. Sometimes I am willing to dive in submerge myself in the relationship, the lifestyle, the all-encompassing reality that is believing, but other times I am too afraid to even get my feet wet.

I’ve realized that I often think of god as being the creation itself. He is the mountains and the water and the sand between my toes.

More recently, Pickle and I went to Golden Gardens in Ballard. A group of people from church were gathering on a warm Friday evening to simply hang out on the beach. We had a campfire and watched the sunset over the mountains, and the whole scene felt surreal.

For a while, I felt like it must be someone else’s life that was taking place. Surely it couldn’t be mine. I watched my friends standing in small groups talking. I watched Laura blending in so well and joining conversations. Pickle and I stood behind it all for a few minutes, me holding her like the big baby that she is.

It never lasts. Soon enough, someone always notices Pickle and starts petting her and asking me questions. I’m afraid I might be a recluse without her. This time, it was just the click I needed to get me back in the moment instead of floating in the Dali dream world of my this-can’t-be-real life.

The colors smeared over the mountains like someone sneezed, and the paint speckled pink here, purple there. Beach, water, mountain, sky—I wanted to be in it, as if I could just jump into the water, and the mountains, water, sky would fully inundate me, and I could be a part of it.

I know that all of my current beliefs are totally opposite what I’m supposed to believe as an attempting-Christian, but I can’t help but feel like there are pieces of god inside of us. Like being in it would bring us closer to, dare I say, nirvana, to the completeness of being wholly one with god.

Like that strong pull to get in the water is the temptation to strive to become as close to god as possible.

Like the shocking cold of sinking fully under the waves is a spark towards the divine.

But they are still waves and they come and go, pulling stronger and weaker with the tides. Sometimes I can sit at the shore and feel content in just knowing that the water is there. Sometimes I need to just run, to chase the Frisbee without thinking about the water and go for it, all in.