Swimming Meditation: If only the Buddha had had a swimming pool

In
the Buddhist tradition, there is abundant literature on Walking
Meditation. The reason is obvious. Walking does not require any tools,
or preparation or expensive capital investment. This would be the ideal
choice for monks who would normally live a simple life in a simple
environment. But apart from walking, we can practise Mindful Meditation
while going about a lot of other everyday activities.

 

Nowadays,
swimming has become a popular pastime for many. Go to any public or
private swimming pool, and you will note that at different times of the
day, there are regulars who go almost every day at around the same time
and spend a certain period of time swimming. Many of them will tell you
that they have been doing it for years and that if circumstances prevent
them from doing it on any one day, they will feel very uncomfortable
and “incomplete”. I know of a group of people who swim every morning in a
private club swimming pool in Hong Kong. They all attest to the benefit
of regular swimming: better physical health and increased immunity to
minor ailments etc. Most of them swim just before going to work in the
morning and they claim that after the swim, they feel refreshed and
ready to meet the day’s challenge.

 

So, what is happening here?

 

Recreational
swimming is a very lonely game. There is no opponent or partner to play
with you, and you cannot carry on a conversation or communicate with
other people while you are doing it. What these swimmers do every day
is, in fact, spend a certain period of time alone with themselves. For
some people, it is a time to concentrate just on doing something and
forget the world for a while. For others, it may be a time for
reflection and may be for making plans for the rest of the day. What I
have found, however, is that swimming is a perfect way to practise
Vipassana Meditation and work towards the development of Mindfulness.

The
following is a description of how Mindful Meditation can be done while
swimming. This would be especially useful for those people who are
regular swimmers and who would like to make use of this routine to help
them to develop a fuller life.

 

 

The pre-requisite   

 

To
swim, you obviously need a swimming pool. To have one’s own private
swimming pool is obviously ideal. However, swimming in a public or
private club pool would be equally feasible. The most important thing is
to find a time when you can swim undisturbed along a lane in the pool.
This may mean starting when the pool opens first thing in the morning or
when the crowd is gone after peak hours. Another pre-requisite is that
you must be a reasonably experienced swimmer who can perform the
breaststroke slowly without worrying about the mechanics of the breast
stroke.

 

 

The mechanics of swimming meditation

 

The
most ideal way to swim and meditate is to use the breast stroke because
this swimming stroke allows you to swim relatively slowly and
deliberately.

 

To
start with, one must get into the pool slowly and deliberately from the
shallow end. You may first note the intention of getting into the pool
and then note every movement of the body muscle and limb that get you
into it. This would provide a good initiation into a Mindful state.

 

Once
into the pool, you can note the coolness of the water around your legs
and the sensation of the slight ripples of the water brushing against
your skin. Stand for a few minute, feeling the sensation.

 

When
you are ready, note first the intention of going into the water, then
take a deep breath and slowly lower your head into the water and then
slide your whole body into it. When you slide into the water, put you
two hands together with the palms together and extend you arms straight
in front of your head (which would be under water) and stretch them
forward as far a possible. At the same time, you can use your feet to
pushing against the side of the pool so that it can give you the
momentum to glide through the water.

 

Let
yourself glide forward slowly for a few moments with you hands and feet
fully extended and your whole body in one straight line. Feel the
sensation of water rushing through your hair and brushing your face and
then the rest of the body in a gentle caress. At the same time, exhale
slowly through you mouth by pursing your lips and feel the water bubbles
that you blow out frothing against your face.

 

When
you feel that the forward momentum of your body is coming to an end,
perform the traditional breaststroke by pushing your arms straight out
sideways while pressing your palms downwards. Feel the weight of the
water against your arms and palms. Then bending your elbows, bring them
to the sides of your body and bring your palms together towards your
chest. Feel the movements of your arm and shoulder muscles and joints as
you do this. As you press your elbows and pull your upper arms to the
sides of your body, feel the pressure of the water that you have scooped
pushing your upper body up the water. Inhale while your head is up.
Feel the different sensations of air and water on your face. As the
upward push loses momentum, let your head slide back down the water.

 

Form
the intention of extending your arms straight in front of you again. At
the same time, bend your knees and bring them together as if you would
kneel with your heels facing skywards. Then in a kick, stretch and
extend your legs outwards, then straight behind you again. Feel the
forward momentum created by the kick of your legs as you glide silently
through the water with arms and legs outstretched and your body in a
straight line again. Again note the sensation of water rushing through
your hair and brushing against your body as you glide. Very slowly
exhale as you let the forward momentum run its course. Repeat this
series of movements as you move forward in the pool.

 

When
you reach the other side of the pool, touch the wall of the side and
turn your body mindfully, noting first the intention, then the body
movements required to move you around to swim back to the shallow end of
the pool.

 

 

The Meditation

After
a bit of practice, you should know the number of strokes you need to
swim from one end of the pool to the other. For the average swimmer in a
25 metre standard pool, it can be anything between 8 to 13 strokes
depending on your physique. Try to note this number because it may
become useful in your meditation.

 

For
the beginner, the easiest way to reach a certain degree of
concentration is to count your strokes as you swim. Thus as you push
your body to glide in the water, count silently: “one…” until the next
stroke when you count “two…” etc, while you glide in the water again
with your body in one straight line. After a little while, you will find
your mind wandering off to other things, like the person swimming
beside you, or some noise that you hear while your head is above water.
Try to note these thoughts and bring yourself gently back to the number
counting and the alternate sensations of water and air on your skin, the
silence under water and movements of the different body muscles as you
swim.

 

Once
you have mastered the mechanics of swimming meditation, the next step
is to concentrate on the breathing. When you inhale with your head above
water, note the fact that you are inhaling and the movement of your
chest wall and abdomen while you are doing it. Try to imagine the air
going through your whole body. Then as you immerse your head under
water, exhale slowly through your nostrils or mouth and note the fact
that you are exhaling. Thus you concentrate your thoughts just on the
breathing: “I am breathing in slowly…” and then “I am breathing out
slowly…” You may also want to note the short momentary pause in between
each inhalation and exhalation.

 

You
should swim for at least 45 minutes in this manner. You will find that
when you first start, your concentration will be very good, but after a
while, your mind will wander off. You should note these thoughts without
judgment and then gently bring yourself back to the breathing. Over the
period of 45 minutes, your mind may sometimes behave much like a monkey
with its tail on fire. But gradually with practice, you will gain a
deeper and deeper level of concentration and you become just aware of
the breathing and nothing else for a progressively longer period of
time.

 

 

 

What Swimming Taught Me About Self-Compassion and Letting Go

Finding “easy speed” in the pool helped writer and meditation teacher
Kelly Barron heal the wound of overachieving and stay loose in the face
of resistance.

• By Kelly Barron
• April 21, 2020

I’m no Diana Nyad. But I’m a capable swimmer. During the summer
months, I regularly swim a half-mile in the Pacific Ocean, churning
through waves and unpredictable tides with the self-assurance of a Los
Angeles lifeguard.

So when a gym pal encouraged me to improve my strokes by taking a
lesson with Dan Halladay, a retired UCLA women’s swim team coach, I was
game. I liked the idea of refining my freestyle, polishing my flip
turns, and getting in some intense swim workouts.

As I headed to the pool for my first lesson, I was surprised to feel a
pang of nervous tightness in my chest. I met Dan, a fit 68-year-old
with a genuine smile, at the far end of a lane reserved for lessons. Dan
got down to business quickly, explaining that he’d film my first 50
yards on his iPhone and then get in the water to instruct.

I pulled on my orange swim cap, squared my goggles over my nose, and
slipped into the chlorine-scented water. Taking off with purpose, I
whirled my arms and kicked my feet at a fast clip. I hit the wall,
reversing course with a solid flip turn, and kept pace to finish
strongly. 

Dan was waiting at the water’s edge. My friend had told me that no
matter how good a swimmer I thought I was, Dan would offer corrections.
Of course; that’s why I was taking a lesson. But what Dan said surprised
me. 

Dan relayed the kind of wisdom that transcends sport: “We only have so many starry nights left.” 

“Wow, you’re like a wind-up toy in the water,” he joked. Taking a
more serious tone, he told me: “Relax. Slow down.” Then, Dan relayed the
kind of wisdom that transcends sport: “We only have so many starry
nights left.” 

The nervous tightness in my chest blossomed. I felt both embarrassed
and profoundly seen by Dan’s seemingly obvious observation of my Type A
tendencies. The harsh voice of self-criticism rang in my ears: “Why are you trying so hard? You’re not training for the Olympics!” 

Then, as it often does when I need it most, my mindfulness practice
showed up. I took a deep breath and softened my body. In the space I
created between my critical thoughts, waves of self-compassion
arose. Pema Chödrön’s sweet refrain of self-acceptance—“allow, allow,
allow”—floated into my mind. Reframing my reactivity with kindness, I
thought how normal it was for me and for all of us to return to our
habitual set points when we try something new, feel stressed, or just
get a bad night’s sleep. 

Healing the wound of overachieving

And yet, there in the pool my striving was laid bare. Swimming, like
many sports, can be an embodied metaphor for how we relate to life. I’ve
long equated effort with excellence. More often than not, I’ve made it
happen, rather than let it happen. Sometimes there’s merit in that
hard-nosed approach. It’s made me successful. But it’s also made me
stressed and, at times, woefully unhappy. 

Like many people who begin and then develop a lifelong meditation
practice, I began meditating as a way to unwind my tightly wound nervous
system. It’s worked. Even in times of great difficulty, I’m so much
less stressed than I ever have been. The way I muscled myself from one
end of the pool to the other, though, told me that the wound of
overachieving was still open. It also told me that by taking swim
lessons I might have the opportunity to further heal it.

Dan was more than a worthy teacher. In his decades of coaching, he’d
trained some of the best collegiate swimmers in the country, teaching
them how to efficiently glide through the water at maximum speed. 

Swimming, it turns out, is highly paradoxical. Slicing through the
water quickly while preserving precious energy requires the
perfect muscular balance between laxity and tension. Swim with too much
effort and you’ll be gassed before the race is over. Make too little
effort and you’ll wallow in the water.

Dan called this razor’s edge of effort “easy speed.” 

The feeling of easy speed has
returned to me on dry land. It has appeared at times as a welcome
companion amid uncertainty, preventing me from regressing into
well-worn, stressful habits.

After our brief chat, Dan jumped into the water and stood in front of
me in the shallow end. He grabbed my hands and stretched my arms out in
front of me, lightly moving them in a rhythmic freestyle motion so I
could feel easy speed in my body. 

It was a mix of presence, physical ease, and mental relaxation. I knew from other experiences—absorbed concentration during meditation or flow while writing—that the feeling couldn’t be forced. But it could be felt, acknowledged, and trained. 

A look of recognition must have registered on my face. Dan smiled. He
then explained that instead of ripping and tearing at the water, I
needed to extend my arms from my shoulders and reach toward an imaginary
pole in front of me that could pull me ahead one stroke at a time.

I made a few fumbling attempts. Dan told me to soften my hands and
loosen my fingers, spreading them like Japanese fans. Loose hands meant
water could slide more readily past me.

The lesson continued with Dan making numerous corrections and me
making numerous bids to embody them. My head was too high in the water. I
dropped my right hand before my left hand reached out in front of me.
It would be better if I rotated my torso more, and so on. 

Dan, though, had me at starry nights. Midway through my lesson, I
held my hand up and with the kind of confidence only a recovering
overachiever can muster, I told him: “I think I’ve got it.” 

I swam the length of the pool, letting my body fall into a state of
dynamic relaxation as I concentrated on one or two of Dan’s technical
notes. It felt as though I was swimming through peanut butter, barely
making headway across the pool. I missed my thrashing and the illusion
of control striving bestows. 

But when I finished my lap, Dan enthusiastically said: “You won’t believe how fast you were motoring.” 

Staying loose in the face of resistance

In the swim lessons since my first, Dan has upped the ante, tethering
me to a bungee cord and forcing me to create easy speed against
resistance. Life, like swimming, doesn’t always go smoothly or as we
plan. So I saw the wisdom of training easy speed in the face of
difficulty.

And, in fact, the feeling of easy speed has returned to me on dry
land. It has appeared at times as a welcome companion amid uncertainty,
preventing me from regressing into well-worn, stressful habits. My
striving nature will likely always be a part of me. I’ve become far more
accepting of it. At times, I even appreciate it. It’s what drove me to
take a swim lesson in the first place. But maybe, sometime in the near
future, striving won’t be what propels me forward. Easy speed will be my
new set point.

Mindful Swimming

Jump into the pool with Tonya Nascimento. Experience the rhythm of your
stroke, the comfort of the water holding you up, the rush of the water
past your ears, the craziness of hundreds of people swimming in circles
and spaced just so. Competitive swimmers, like all athletes, can benefit
from practicing in the moment.