the immersion factor

{Lake George, Adirondack Mountains, upstate New York… photo via}

If I visit a body of water, I don’t feel like I’ve actually been there until some part of my body has touched it.  It helps to dip my hand in, to wade a bit, but the best version is swimming, of course, if it’s an option.  It was in this way that I felt very connected to Lake George in upstate New York when I worked up there for two summers during college.  Nearly every day, rain or shine, balmy or chilly, I would jump into that lovely clear green mountain lake and somehow try to comprehend the mass of its depths and the history of its shores.  A kind of knowing emerges that only comes through slow, physical, patient immersion and observation.  Even then, I only scratched the surface of this giant’s secrets.  It’s a picture to me of the process of seeking truth and looking for the contours of the universe from the perspective of my humble size.  Even if I know I won’t grasp the depth and breadth of it, it’s so satisfying to swim rather than standing to the side of it, detached.  Writing and art-making are also like this for me.  Both help me to more fully experience life as it whizzes by.  If I can focus and immerse myself in some corner, within the hum of serious play that children model so well, I am perhaps at my best.


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