A Gun, A Body Bag and 2 Flash Lights

It was 5:39 AM when the pick up truck rolled around. 

She was pacing up and down the street when its headlights blared right at her. She froze. For a second the truck didn’t seem like it was going to stop.

They carried the body bag to a remote area by the water. The sun doesn’t rise until 6:58 in the winter. They had plenty of time.

They untied the rope and rolled the tarp open. He put on the suit and pulled out his spear gun. She started blowing up her arm inflatables.

Within minutes, they were making their way to the water. Chill ran up their neck. They quietly swam around the lagoon, shining their arm flashlight under reef and rocks. They pretended it was a much cooler device than a flash light. Some kind of Stark technology.

They swam until the sun come up. 

Runners began to come out. One by one, they stopped on their tracks to look down. One, two, three, four of them stood and watched. Seconds turned into minutes. When their curiosity somewhat satisfied, they moved on and another group formed.

They were probably confused at what they were seeing: 

A man in a head-to-toe wet suit.

A woman in lime green bikini and blue and pink mismatching arm floaties.

Fins and all their bodies were floating atop a 2–3 feet deep lagoon.

Why am I telling you this ridiculous story?

Because that was how I spent last Wednesday morning. We had no idea the lagoon was that shallow. We have only seen people kayaking on it. So we decided to go diving for fish.

That didn’t work out.

But here’s what’s cool:

I don’t know how to swim. So floating in the middle of a lagoon was never a priority on my list. But from this ridiculous experience, I realized that the lagoon is actually shallow for the most part. The middle of it gets deep. But there is a giant reef full of life waiting for me to discover less than 5 feet under. A whole new world I have never seen. And I run past this same bridge every single week.

How many things have I left undiscovered? How many rocks unturned because I am always heading somewhere?

What is it about routine that makes it so easy to fall into? Even when you’re aware of it. Even when you say: “Ava, don’t fall into a routine. Don’t get comfortable”.

It just happens.

You get into the rhythm of life. And gradually your world shrinks until it is nothing but your daily life.

I’d spend weeks going nowhere but my usual locations: gym, beach, Costco.

I’d completely forget that I live on the most spectacular planet — the only one literally to have life that we can find. And not just one life. Not just one million lives. Hundred billions of lives.

When we focus on nothing but our life, we lose a sense of who we are. We forget that we are connected to things much bigger than ourselves. 

The irony is comical — the more your ego grows, the less it understands itself.

Our problems intensify when we believe that our life is the only thing that matters. This happens because we grow attached to our identity more than all other non-identity forms (the sun, the trees, the animals) that make us who we are.

We try to become someone and achieve something as if that’s the point of life itself.

This will sound crazy. But I have been having a ton of fun embracing crazy lately so here’s what I think:

The only point in life is for you to enjoy it. How can there be a higher meaning than that?

Just think about it for a second.

Think about the number of planets.

Think about the number of years for Earth to form.

Think about the number of species that have lived, gone extinct, and evolved before humans even existed.

How could it be so easy for us to forget what a miracle life is?

And what a miracle it is for us to have the consciousness to witness it all.

We could’ve been bananas. I wouldn’t have any fingers to type and you wouldn’t have any eyes to read my letters.

Think about that.

What I’m trying to say is,

Yes you have problems. We all do.

But we also have this one magnificent life and a chance to do over every single day. Don’t waste all of it on solving problems.

Explore. Discover. Take a chance.

Even if it takes putting on fins and floaties in a 3-feet lagoon to get over your fear— do it.

Even if people stop dead on their tracks to stare and question you — do it.

You have no idea what’s waiting for you on the other side.