Eerie Erie

On a recently sunny day, I traveled to Edgewater with some friends. Despite the warm air and burning sun, it was still April and the water had not had many warm days to heat its depths. The lake was freezing. It felt as if there was ice in it. As my friend put it, "you know how usually you can get out of the water and jump back in and feels warmer? Yeah, that doesn't happen with this water. You can't adjust." My other friend was standing knee deep in the water for nearly ten minutes, and, upon leaving the water, she looked down at her legs and realized they were shockingly red, and her toes barely able to move. It was COLD.

Yet, we all went in the water.

We had a nice picnic and talked while I captured some candids and aesthetic images. The boys got in the water a few different times, shocking their bodies with each dive. My friend and I did not wear bathing suits, and the other friend decided not to swim at all (I wish I was as steadfast as her, but I am easily persuaded by the masses).

Despite the lack of proper clothing, we were both peer pressured into getting in this horribly frigid lake, fully clothed. I was wearing jean shorts, a terrible material for swimming, and one of my favorite tee shirts. The four of us ran across the painful shells and pebbles and dashed quickly into the lake, jumping a few feet in and submerging our heads.

I did not think I would go in the water. As I ran toward the water, I agreed with myself that I would stop knees deep and not subject the rest of my body to the harsh environment. And then suddenly I was completely under water, rushing through the ice liquid. My head was under neath and I was swimming out to the sand bar several yards out.

It was so weird. I was suddenly twenty yards out looking back at the beach. And I wasn't even that cold anymore. I think my nerves had totally frozen and were no longer sensitive to pain.

But, being who I am, I turned the perfectly normal moment with my friends into this crazy introspective realization that I what I had just done so perfectly reflects what I have done with my whole life, and what other people do too.

There are so many things in life that I expected to hate and not really care about or not really even participate in. I thought I would stop knees deep. But then I ended up throwing myself into them and looking back at my progress and going "shit. I did it. I made it all the way out here and I love it." I wasn't even cold-- no regrets.

For instance, the most obvious example, high school. I thought high school would be a quick four years and I would make a few friends and just get by. And then suddenly I'm here at graduation looking back at freshman year, the beach, and thinking, how did I get here? Thank God I got here. I submerged myself in Walsh's culture and I got so much joy out of it. I participated in campus ministry. Went on pine ridge and Rome and kairos. I did as much as I could. And I don't have a lot of friends but I like to think I'm friendly with the grade. There is no one I actively dislike. And maybe they all dislike me but they're really good at lying because I genuinely feel so much love from the Walsh community and it's gonna be really hard for me to burst the bubble of affection and go to the foreign lands of college.

But even tiny things. You go to a dance and you think you'll just kinda mosey around and maybe talk to a few people. But then suddenly you're on the floor dancing and talking to old friends having a good laugh and then you leave the dance and you're like woah. That was actually a lot of fun.

Or sports or camps or retreats. Even just hanging out with people you don't know particularly well. If you just let the moment completely encase you, you leave the moment wishing you could craw back in the encasement. Because it was that good. It was just fun and you got lost in it. Like every Mr. Storad class. Every concert. Every time you've had so much fun that you never even thought to check the time. Every time your friend was laughing so hard that you miss your curfew...

The waters of life appear dull and harshly cold. But once you dive in, it's hard to come out. It's so cliche but it's so true, as a dear friend once told me, cliches are under rated. Cliches become cliche for a reason as I like to say. Life is a vast lake of opportunities that you have to jump in if you expect to be able to drink out of it. Meaning, life won't hand you opportunities and happiness, you have to actively participate to feel any sense of accomplishment with in it.

When I led Sophomore retreat, I left my small group with a pep talk that I really liked, but I doubt they were even listening since I was the nerdy annoying leader. I said to them, "if you're gonna change your clothes for gym class, you might as well play the game." Meaning, if you're gonna be here and live, you might as well participate. Don't mope around and complain that there's nothing to do. Don't dwell knees deep and say the water is too cold. Go out with your friends whenever the offer. Tell your parents you'd love to watch a movie despite the homework due. Say yes to that concert. Watch Yes Man for inspiration. Travel as much as possible. Eat a variety of foods. Keep your mind and heart open to whatever crosses your path. It's okay to be a little bit naive and vulnerable, it's how you learn and kindness is always essential. Don't let people walk over you. If they're not being friendly towards you, express kindness towards them but don't hang out with them. You can't hang out with people who bring you down, it makes no sense. Get it? Your friends should be hangers not anchors.

I guess all I'm trying to say is, if you're gonna go knees deep you might as well dive in. The water may appear murky and cold. But you'll adjust so quickly to the point where you don't want to adjust back to how things were before, you will want to swim forward.