April 1st Like No Other

What a day. I had my first scuba diving class and it was a total sensory overload. It was very intense.
At first I was excited, even the ordeal of getting the full wet suit on was interesting. Mine was yellow and black and I felt squished in, boots and all. Like I just been vacuum packed in there. I watched the guy assemble the tanks and hook everything up. The instructor had done some explaining, and I was ready to go. There were some people on beach chairs about 20 feet away and they seemed very curious about my antics getting the wet suit on. I was looking at them and grinning. Then before we marched across the small white beach to the water someone helped me put on the tank backpack, and I felt like a little kid being cinched in there and all adjusted with help. That full tank of compressed air is heavy! I had to figure out how to adjust so I could stand and then walk carefully to the water. If I were to fall over I'd be like a turtle, waiting for someone to come help me. In front of anyone currently on the beach at the time. But I made it! By the time we got there I thought the water temperature was about perfect. I saw a lady nearby who was gasping as she walked further into the water in just a bathing suit. We went over some things in chest deep water standing over some white sand. It was all very surreal. Then we went on a dive. Then Noe (Senor Instructor) set his timer and we went on a 43 minute dive in shallow water, maybe 12 feet down. It was frustrating. It was thrilling. It was unnerving. I was awe-struck.
It was all of these things at once. I was ok with taking my respirator/mouthpiece out underwater, and putting it back in. I was ok with clearing my mask of water. I was figuring out how to not use my arms to swim. But I was hyper concerned with the compressed air I had to exhale as soon as I inhaled, and not hold the air in my lungs to expand them too much. It was stressful to pay such devoted attention and energy to each inhale and exhale. At one point I hated 20-something year old Noe for his ease at doing something I struggled so much with. He's had a few thousand dives though, and he really is a decent human being. Taking life one breath at a time gave me some flashbacks to 2 things. One was controlled breathing while giving birth, and the other was when my life reduced to each breath when I would have a gallstone attack, many years ago.
It was a bit like my yoga experience, it's supposed to be all fun and zen and cool, and I'm just feeling like I'm flailing about trying to get this upside down world figured out while my legs keep floating up and over-aching my back. My neck was starting to really ache from being belly down and looking up and around. I also had to swim holding my nose like a child, because I kept trying to exhale through my nose. Which screws up the visibility by fogging up my mask, which makes the dive a bit useless, because the point is to see what's down there. And oh, it's beautiful and serene. The fish don't swim away in a panic, they just move over a little if they have to. Such gorgeous fish with delightful kaleidaocopes of  designs and colors. I even saw a distinct looking barracuda with his big under-bite. The view of all the coral and their variety of colors and shapes was totally amazing too.
It took all of my concentration and effort to say near the bottom too. We weren't overly weighted, so we had to control our depth with our breathing. It meant a lot of constant calculating on a bunch of things for me. I thought my brain would implode.
It's a good thing Noe warned me, because I was truly exhausted and very happy when time was up and we headed to shore. I was sore and dazed and Noe said it looked like I was a little scared, but really I was just in pain, now including a headache and a tiny sting on each hand from some fire coral. I was just relieved to be able to breathe without thinking and I had to pee. And I was trying assess my body and process the whole experience. So I stayed quiet as we came in, because honestly the first thing that wanted to come out of my mouth was all the negative stuff that was commanding my attention. Including another sunburn on my face. I also was only thinking of one thing. Getting out of that suit now that I was out on the street in the sun. Then only one other thing to get to a bathroom. Then the single drive to get hydrated. Then getting a shower was a pressing need, but we had to dry off enough before we could catch a taxi home. Then my daughter (my son's wife) Marika sent me a text before we even caught the taxi. She gave me the news that she was in the hospital and the baby may have to come early. As in 3 months early. So I had these 2 insanely intense things all mixing it up in my drained brain the rest of the day. Whoosh.

God has not promised that life will be perfect. But He has still promised us a perfect peace if we ask and we are ready to receive. That's the part that I'm going for. Peace. It's been promised. I want it with my son's situation, and with my scuba diving.
I called Seth and sent him an email too. I hope it's received ok. He's in a high stress situation, which means he may be easy to offend. I could either say something that enrages him, or something he most needed to hear. I guess that's why they invented prayer, and why I've been learning to trust that all I can do is be myself. I rounded up my circle of prayer warriors, counted my blessings, and fell asleep early. (update: 2 days later baby Aurelia was born at an incredible 1 pound, 9 ounces!)(update to the update, I finally got to celebrate her reaching the 2 pound mark on the 27th!)

I love Puerto Morelos, this is a wall near where we walked off the beach.