2025/08/30
1.随波逐流才需要真正的勇气。
周五。大风。
海面波涛汹涌。
今天说是要下雨。但最终也没下。
大海就像是憋着气的高压锅，不停折腾。
海里几乎没有人游泳，连皮划艇都在往回赶。
专门带了相机，海里拍浪去。
人类在巨浪面前确实会感受到渺小。
这种渺小，具体解释就是没有任何的可控性。
有些自以为是的人总希望控制些什么。
这种局面下越想梗着脖子控制越完蛋。
解决方案也很简单，躺平，随波逐流就好了。
说起来简单，但需要哲学指导行为，知行合一。
当你真正拥抱这个随机的世界，反而会乐在其中。
关键的问题是：你是否有勇气接受 – 其实你控制不了任何事？
2.不要相信眼睛，要相信感觉。
周四。无风。
海面有微浪。
不同的光照射进眼睛产生不同的颜色。
绿色的海面下是细沙。
蓝色的海面下是珊瑚。
黑色的海面下是礁石。
综上所述，身在海里很难看清哪里是离岸流哪里是暗流。
有时候往前游个一两米，水温骤降十度，海水瞬间冷到刺骨。快速游离，温度就又恢复正常了。
有时候能感受到海水分层，三明治一样，表面是日晒火燎的热，中间是刺骨的凉，脚底却又是温温的。
当你感觉到一些不适，但又看不出什么异常，不要犹豫，快速逃离总是对的。
3.海面上漂浮的通常不是好东西。
周六。无风。
海水清澈见底。
昨天的风暴过后，今天的大海格外温柔。
风暴过后的大海，宁静中透着诡异。
昨天刚好看了Goya的展。于是冥冥之中画风就朝着奇怪的方向展开了。
远远看见有只海鸥坐在水面上吃东西，嘎嘣脆。吃的是沙丁鱼吗，好奇，按理说鱼不应该在海面，应该在海底。
游近一看，原来它在吃海燕幼鸟的尸体。看我过来，嘎的一声飞走了。
只剩下清澈透亮的海水中漂浮着半拉黑色的尸体。还有几根毛。
抬头一看。嚯。我懂了。
昨天的风暴应该拍碎了不少海鸟在岩壁上的巢，鸟蛋和幼鸟估计是全军覆没了。
鸡贼的海鸥趁火打劫，海燕嚎叫着盘旋着试图把海鸥赶走，但没有什么用。
大自然就是如此单纯而又残酷。
4. 阳光灿烂的时候，好运与噩运各占一半。
周一。无风。
也无浪。
阳光过于灿烂，眼睛很难睁开。
海水的温度既不冷也不热，刚刚好。
舒服到可以直接睡过去。
下一秒，小腿剧痛。
仿佛有一千根针扎进肉里那么痛。
瞬间一脑门汗。
应该是被水母蛰了，我的理性告诉我。疼程度的很不正常，我的感性告诉我。
可是毕竟没看见水母。所以也不是很确定。
火速游离了那一片，一直游一直游，游到半小时后上了岸。
小腿肚肿了起来，好几个大水泡。好的，可以确认是水母了。
人生有了新体验。
又是一个周一。无风。
换了片海域。这里有微浪。
海豚离我最近的距离只有十米。
看了我一眼火速就跑掉了。
大概因为我穿了黑色的长袖泳衣吧，也许把我当成了走失儿童小海豚。
人生又有了新体验。
5. 距离是相对的。
周二。微风。有云。
海面看似平静。
今天挑战了一下长距离，游到了一片礁石的尽头。
往下看可以看到海底的断层。再往远一些，水深就不是三五米了，而是三四十米。黑乎乎的。
不要凝视。要专注于海面。不要凝视。
往回看，教堂和钟楼在云层透出的阳光下显得模糊而又遥远。丁达尔效应加持下，教堂加倍神圣。
同样的距离，回程要比去程更累，游啊游一直都不到岸边，怎么觉得比去的时候要长呢。
大概是因为太阳落山了。也因为我饿了。
1. Going with the flow requires true courage
Friday. Strong winds.
The sea was turbulent.
It was said to rain today. But it didn’t.
The sea was like a pressure cooker, constantly churning.
Almost no one was in the sea; even the kayaks were heading back.
I brought my camera specifically to photograph the waves.
Humans truly feel small in the face of giant waves.
This smallness, specifically, means having no control whatsoever.
Some self-righteous people always want to control something.
In this situation, the more you stubbornly try to control, the more out of control it becomes.
The solution is simple: go with the flow.
It sounds simple, but it requires philosophical guidance and braveness for the action.
When you truly embrace this random world, you’ll find joy in it.
The key question is: Do you have the courage to accept that you can’t actually control anything?
2. Don’t trust your eyes, trust your feelings.
Thursday. No wind.
Slight ripples on the sea.
Different light produces different colors in the eyes.
Below the green sea lies fine sand.
Below the blue sea lies coral.
Below the black sea lies reef.
In conclusion, it’s difficult to distinguish between rip currents and undercurrents while in the sea.
Sometimes, swimming forward a meter or two, the water temperature suddenly drops ten degrees, becoming bone-frozen cold.
Swimming away quickly, the temperature returns to normal.
Sometimes you can feel the seawater layered, like a sandwich: the surface is scorching hot, the middle is icy cold, while the soles are warm to your feet.
If you feel uncomfortable but can’t see anything unusual, don’t hesitate, getting away quickly is always the right thing to do.
3. Things floating on the surface are usually not good.
Saturday. No wind.
Crystal clear water.
After yesterday’s storm, the sea is exceptionally gentle today. The sea after the storm was eerily calm.
I had just seen Goya’s exhibition yesterday. And somehow, the atmosphere began to take a strange dive.
In the distance, I saw a seagull sitting on the water, eating, crunching away. Was it eating sardines? I wondered. Fish shouldn’t be on the surface; they should be on the seabed.
Swimming closer, I realized it was eating the carcass of a baby petrel. Seeing me approach, it flew away with a screeching sound.
Only half a dead body floated in the clear, bright water. A few feathers were left.
Looking up… Ah. I understood.
Yesterday’s storm must have shattered many seabird nests on the rocky cliffs; the eggs and chicks were probably all gone.
The cunning seagull took advantage of the chaos, while the petrel circled and screeched, trying to drive it away, but to no avail.
Nature is so simple yet so cruel.
4. When the sun shines brightly, good luck and bad luck are equally balanced.
Monday. No wind.
No waves either.
The sunlight was too bright; it was hard to open my eyes.
The seawater temperature was neither cold nor hot, just right.
So comfortable I could fall asleep instantly.
The next second, a sharp pain shot through my calf.
It felt like a thousand needles were piercing my flesh.
Instantly, I broke out in a cold sweat.
I must have been stung by a jellyfish, my rational mind told me. The pain was abnormal, my intuition told me.
But I hadn’t seen any jellyfish, so I wasn’t entirely sure.
I quickly swam away from that area, swimming and swimming, until I reached shore half an hour later.
My calf was swollen, with several large blisters. Okay, I can confirm it was a jellyfish.
A new life experience.
It’s Monday again. No wind.
I changed areas of the sea. Here there are gentle waves.
The dolphin came within ten meters of me at its closest.
It glanced at me and darted away.
Probably because I was wearing a black long-sleeved swimsuit, or maybe it mistook me for a lost baby dolphin.
Another new experience in life.
5. Distance is relative.
Tuesday. Light breeze. Cloudy.
The sea appears calm.
Today I challenged myself with a long swim, reaching the end of a reef.
Looking down, I could see a fault line on the seabed. Further out, the water depth wasn’t just three or five meters, but thirty or forty meters. It was pitch black.
Don’t stare. Focus on the surface. Don’t stare.
Looking back, the church and bell tower appeared blurry and distant in the sunlight filtering through the clouds. The Tyndall effect made the church seem even more “holy”.
The same distance, but the return trip was more tiring than the journey there. Swimming and swimming, I still couldn’t reach the shore; it felt longer than the way there.
It was probably because the sun had set. And also because I was hungry.