Marita and I spent our honeymoon (20 short, wonderful years ago) in Belize. At the time, we were both avid scuba divers, and our time was mostly spent diving in wrecks and reefs along the Caribbean Sea. It was incredible, with colors and sea life and movement that one can only experience underwater.
However, two decades later, there was only one dive that I specifically remember. And I think about this dive often, mostly in the context of prayer.
One morning, we were convinced by the dive shop that it would be worth our while to take a relatively long boat ride to a particular spot that (they claimed) was frequented by Whale Sharks. Now, there are stories that we (and maybe you) had heard about Whale Sharks. They are docile and curious creatures, and we had seen videos of people holding onto their dorsal fins to catch a ride underwater. We wanted to do THAT. Neither of us had ever seen a Whale Shark (they are rare), and the prospect of doing so was extremely inviting.
So, off we go on this boat towards the middle of the ocean. Far enough away that we could not see any land, or any sign of other people. At some point, the captain stopped the boat (we were still in the middle of nowhere) and announced that we were here. “Here?”, we asked, looking around doubtfully. “Yes, here,” replied the captain. “It is here that others have seen Whale Sharks.”
So…we suited up, and in the water we went.
We were far enough out at sea that the ocean floor was far too deep for us to reach. No wrecks, no reefs, just water. Aside from water, and each other, there was literally nothing to see. “The Whale Sharks are attracted to your bubbles (from the tank),” we were assured. “All you do is breath…and wait.” So, we did.
There we were. 20 meters underwater. Marita and I held hands, our buoyancy keeping us still, and we breathed. With each breath, large air bubbles would float toward the surface, translucent and magical.
And we waited. And we breathed. And we waited.
I wish that I could tell you that we saw a Whale Shark. That we held onto its dorsal fin and rode through the waves like some sort of Poseidon. But the fact is that we did not. No Whale Shark. In fact, even at the time, I was reasonably sure that the Dive Shop was leading us on a fool’s errand. And yet… 20 years later, it's that dive which I remember. I remember (and cherish) the feeling that I had in those moments of being so acutely present, connected, and so very much in tune with myself, my wife, and the world around me.
Perhaps this is like (some types) of prayer.
Yes, a hint of hope is to be granted for our petition, but more likely, when done with focus and attention, it brings us into harmony with our innermost self, and we become aware of the breath of the world.
I look forward to praying with you tomorrow night (inside, it’s going to be hot) at Temple Emanu-El.
Shabbat shalom
