I used to be happy.

I used to be happy. I mean overwhelmingly - crying tears of joy, gratitude and appreciation for my life - happy. Sure, my life has changed over the last few years (pandy-aside), but was that not my choice? Have I not been fulfilling my dreams? Was I just young and naieve? At what point did I lose that spark? More importantly - can I get it back?

I don't mean to say that I'm unhappy now. Maybe I'm just older and have had more experiences. Maybe I'm just a little lost, that's part of life, too. Whatever it is, I know that the light inside isn't quite as bright as what I'm used to; it's not what it once was. I know that I want it back, and I know that the feeling I've gotten when I've swam in the cold, salty Pacific, has made me feel more alive than anything else I can think of.

My first experience with Cold Water Immersion was in September 2011, when I was presented with a long-weekend camping trip along the Northumberland Strait; the body of the north Atlantic that spans between Nova Scotia and PEI. I had grown up in central Ontario, with a passion for the ocean stemming from a very young age (circa when Free Willy came out?). In September 2011, I had already been living in Nova Scotia for a year and was reluctantly preparing to move back to Ontario. I'd realized that I'd spent all of this time alongside the ocean, and not once had let my body bathe in it. This was a "grab life by the horns" moment. I walked in, slowly, stood with water splooshing my belly for... some time, while I worked up the mental courage to take the plunge. Luckily my boyfriend at the time was a photographer and captured the exact moment of shock and panic on my face as I let the stinging cold take my breath away. OH BOY IS THAT FRESH.

Fast-forward 11 years. I'm 32 years old and living on the opposite coast of Canada; beautiful British Columbia (ahhh my love, you will get your own story). I've lived here since March 2015, after spending years dreaming of starting fresh while feeling trapped in a toxic and emotionally/verbally abusive relationship (narcissists, am I right?). Anyway, I finally GTFO of there and moved super far away to fulfil that dream that, along with Yoga, kept me going through those icky years.

I don't want to take too much from what should be in my BC-story-to-come, so let's just say I flippin blossomed here, let's go back to all that happiness I mentioned in the first paragraph. I had fulfilled that dream, experienced freedom, felt at home for the first time in my life and my soul definitely thanked me for it. But, my soul gets restless.

So, in 2019, at 29 years old, I fucking went Tree Planting.

Knowing that I was going to be away from the ocean again, I think, is what prompted my reunion with cold water swimming. I had definitely done a few dips over the years, but now that I was leaving, I wanted to soak up as much of the Pacific as I could before disappearing into the remote wilderness of Northern BC to be swimming in mosquitos for 3 months. I started telling myself "it's only cold" and began notice how quickly my body adapted to the temperature, time after time, and how refreshed and clear I felt after.

*Insert Tree Planting* I come back needing the ocean more than ever. I resume my swims, going as often as possible before taking my hard-earned money and going to travel. Bali, is where I first felt salt water that wasn't numbingly cold. I came back from Southeast Asia in March 2020, days before our first official lockdown.

La la la, Covid sucks, I went planting for 2 more seasons and now I realize I don't have that spark. Can I liken Tree Planting to going to war, coming back with some form of PTSD / "I've been through some shit"? It definitely had the tendancy to bring out a very negative side of me, a side I hadn't ever experienced. Also, it's heckin' hard and it heckin' sucks. However, credit where credit is due; it also had the tendency to make me feel a level of confidence and freedom that I also hadn't ever experienced. It definitely changed my life, how much did it change me?

Here I am. Settled back into my pre-planting apartment; my first real home. Post-yoga glow, cozy in bed, happy cats purring and I am content, but I could cry. There is a sense of... hopelessness? that lingers with me, I don't have the spark to fight it off with. It's become a part of me and, though some days I don't feel it at all, I know it's more potent than it was years ago. I don’t have the same level of confidence and when I think about my future, I feel fear more often than excitement (am I just getting old? Is this the pandy blues?) regardless, one thing for sure is that there is so much uncertainty. How do we hold on to hope?

My New Years word was "surrender". So, I'll work on letting this go. My plan is to use the cold Pacific as some sort of exorcism to rid myself of this darkness. The power of cold compels it. I've been twice this week. The water temperature is 7°C and I stay in for ~3 minutes, I think the trick is to never stop moving; swim out and swim back. I'm told by strangers that I'm brave.