In a perfect storm of bad timing and poor decisions, I found myself caught in a treacherous rip current while attempting to swim on a seemingly calm beach. Having underestimated the force of nature, I swam steadily and confidently away from the shore until I realized I was being inexorably pulled out to sea. The horizon stretched relentlessly before me, and as panic crept in, the distant cries of life on the beach faded. My instinct was to fight the current and swim back to safety, but each stroke seemed only to sap my strength further.
Waves broke over me, and for a moment, amid the saline turbulence, I envisioned only vivid flashes of inadequacy and mortality. In the chaos, a voice of reason emerged, whispering recalled snippets of advice about rip currents: ‘Swim parallel to the shore.’ I managed to calm the tumult in my mind enough to heed the advice, slowly but deliberately swimming sideways out of the grasp of the current.
As meters upon endless meters passed, I felt the resistance of the current wane, and with effort borne of desperation mingled with hope, I angled my path towards the shoreline, eventually propelled by the gentler waves lapping the beach. Breathless and exhausted, I emerged from the water, grateful for solid ground beneath my feet and the humbling reminder of nature’s power beside which—ironically—my own perceived endurance had nearly been swept away.
