I sometimes find myself reflecting back upon events in my life. For reasons I can’t explain, these are events that didn’t impact me nearly as much then as they do now.

There are a handful of times in my life where Death came for me but Fate denied its prize. My family knows about one or two of those times. There are several.

 

When these traumatic events struck my mind simply compartmentalized them away and off I went unscathed. With all traumas they eventually  circle back and have to be faced.

So today I revisit a moment from years ago that should have taken my life but didn’t. I’ve since come to realize that the Universe was teaching me a future lesson.

I share this with you now.

At 20 years old, I had found paradise–where nothing comes close to the Golden Coast, and sun kissed skin will melt your popsicle–so said Cali local Katy Perry. Like many Californians, Mother Ocean became my home.

SCUBA diving with my buddy Carlos was the norm. We spent days prowling rippled ocean bottoms and pushed through dense kelp forests. We ran our hands along the smooth sides of whales while dodging toothy sharks. We were expert swimmers.

As some point, Carlos and I caught Seal Team fever. Let us join the Navy! we chanted. We will become the Tip of the Spear, for God and country!

And so for months we trained.

We hoofed ass across hills and plains. Prowled dense forests and craggy mountainsides by morning and swam marathons day, night and in thunder storms. The latter almost killed me.

The storm threw up 20 foot waves. The first bands of the hurricane lashed at the famed Pebble Beach, which was where we were near, having swam miles south from Santa Cruz. We were now faced with a dilemma.

Fight massive waves and ocean swells all the way back to Santa Cruz, or exit at a nearby public beach before private properties of the rich banned such privilege. The decision wasn’t that simple.

This particular stretch of beach was infamous for the many lives it had claimed. Invisible currents rushing back out to sea from previous waves took on deadly motion. Less than 60 feet from shore and hidden within dark waters lurked a 125 foot underwater cliff sucking currents downward.

Lightning spider webbed across the sky.

“Christopher,” Carlos said. “We’ll get out here.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Look, you’ll be okay. You’ll body surf the seventh wave, and when it crests, you’ll pull your fins off. You’ll land on your feet. The water is about 5 1/2 feet there.”

“What about the undertow?”

“You’ll be fine because you won’t have fins on. Watch, I’ll go first.”

The seventh wave is always the biggest, but no one can say why. I observed from a safe distance as Carlos mounted the monster. The ocean swelled, throwing him forward like toy Styrofoam.

He landed on his feet, arms held high. Each hand clutched a fin.

“C’mon!” Carlos shouted above the storm. “It’s easy!”

I bobbed about, waiting for the seventh wave. I can do this, I thought. Thunder boomed overhead.

The dark water gathered about me. I body surfed onto the wave and felt a powerful force shove me forward. I had to stay on top of the swell for any error, and I would be smashed beneath tons of water.

I reached down and snatched the first fin off. I tugged and tugged at the second. The wave began crashing into itself.

I landed on both feet in water up to my neck. I held the single fin high out of the water. Something snatched ahold of the other fin and jerked me under.

The undertow sucked me beneath the surface with such force I smacked the bottom of the ocean face first, knocking the wind out of me. I dug my fingers into the rippled bottom to arrest my slide.

I crouched, planted both feet, and sprang for the surface. My head popped above in time to gasp in a lung full of seawater from the next wave.

The current dragged me further away to the bottom again. Air I needed air.

Once more, I sprang for the surface. I broke above and gasped out seawater but caught another lungful from the next wave.

My strength waned, and I sank in the current, unable to resist. The surface light became distant. “Oh, no,” I thought. I involuntary coughed out what air remained, and pain wracked my lungs and body.

Something bit my shoulder.

Shadows rushed in around my vision.

Then peaceful, painless darkness.

Afterward, I laid on wet beach, coughing up sand and seawater. My body jerked involuntarily, and my lungs burned. A long time passed.

“Are you okay?” It was Carlos’s voice.I looked up at him, unable to answer. He had saved my life.

As fate would have it, Carlos went on to make the Seal Teams. I went on to make prison.

Life is a gift. It’s not about us but about how we impact others. This is the lesson that day has since taught me.

That’s all I have to share today.