A thought of death emerges in my mind,
while I try desperately emerging from water.
My hand above water begs frantically, grasping for a hand, paddle — anything but air.
My lungs below water begs frantically, gasping for nothing but air.
My mind remains steady, focused entirely on a single thought to deny death.
My body whirls aggressively, completely looped into chaos.
In one moment, everything mental slowed, and everything physical sped.
The human life is fragile, terrifyingly fragile. I went to Costa Rica this holiday season. White water rafting was heavily recommended by a friend who went last year. The tour guide made it seem high stakes and life and death, of course, I knew he was trolling for comic relief, so I was shocked to discover that was indeed how the experience felt for me.
The first half of the leg was awesome, strong currents rocking our raft and me, unfazed, at the front dangling a leg over as if to dare the current to pull me in. I wasn't afraid. I can swim any stroke, and am never afraid to get wet. Plus, the tour guide gave a whole speech on what to do if you fell off the raft (for curious readers: head back, lie down never stand, let the current take you downriver, if a tour guide throws a rope take it but with two hands and never around your neck).
My mom even fell in the river early in the route and got up no problem in a quick second.
As my ego filled, my confidence soared higher than the raft. It all came crashing down on me literally and figuratively when a huge current crept up behind me and pulled me in somersault-style, head first heels last into the current. While it was unexpected and shocking since it was so sudden and with great force, I wasn't fearing for my life. With a life jacket on I'd just pop back up and get on. Or so I thought.
I somehow had got dropped right into the middle of a "whirlwind" current; it felt like I was in an underwater tornado. Two currents of opposite directions but equally strong flipped me back and forth and trapped me underwater. I would later find out the force was strong enough to sweep away my water shoes and give me whiplash. Getting swung blindly underwater round and round I started getting dizzy and desperate for air, but couldn't even see the surface in the chaos.
Just as I thought I was close to popping back up I got knocked down again by a yellow thing. I was later told this was another raft moving over me. As I whirled there frantically trying to escape, I started thinking about how sad I would be if I died. With no other option I just held a hand up waving frantically hoping it stayed above water and that someone could see it. When the yellow paddle finally showed up through my water-soaked eyes, I knew I was blessed.
A couple thoughts stuck with me after.
- I am more sensitive to death now. I really don't want to die, and in a fresh way of looking at it, I can withstand any challenges if it affords me the price of living.
- I know and want to become a better man. This isn't a regret for mistakes I've made in the past or dissatisfaction with the man I'm becoming. It's more so a little nudge to myself, "don't be proud of yourself just yet, you got a lot to improve and become better on". Somehow this experience has consistently gave me a clear view that goodness has no limit, and if it did I'm nowhere even close to it. I know now when I die I want to die being proud of the human I've become with full confidence. (Call it a mini Jet Li Tsunami-inspired philanthropy breakthrough)
- A quick chatgpt search after told me I had more time than I thought until it was really game over. Even though I felt like I was reaching my max breathe-hold limit, apparently your body can hold longer than your mind thinks. This made me feel better but also got me thinking, the limit you place on yourself mentally may not be reflective of what you're truly capable of.
I may go rafting again. I may never touch it ever again. I haven't made up my mind yet lol.