I am passionate about scuba diving. There’s
something that happens on the boat between dives,
waiting for enough surface interval time to pass so we
can go on our next dive. Sometimes we are flying over
the waves, salty, and with the wind in our hair on the
way to the next dive site. Sometimes we sit quietly,
bobbing softly in a sheltered cove. There are usually
a group of us just being together. Sometimes there is
raucous laughter about a playful prank someone played
underwater, or we would remember with awe the 5 foot spotted eagle ray
that soared silently through our midst as we all
drifted together with the current. Or how we gasped
as the frigid thermocline abruptly gushed into our
balmy water space. So there we are on the deck of the
boat, between dives, waiting. Sometimes quiet,
sometimes munching starbursts, or sipping water.
Sometimes chatting, sometimes not. Not caring where we
sat or lay in the sun. A huge bond exists among us.
No one is self-conscious. We have expended energy
and are thrilled with what we have just done. Only we
understand it because we just had this totally unique,
exciting experience. We are bonded in an inexplicably
warm and wonderful way. We’re all there because we love it, all levels
of experience, all levels of risks, we have
experienced something successful and fabulous
together, and we’re waiting to do it again. With
contented, although sometimes tired, smiles inside
and/or out.
Maybe this is bonding. I don’t know of another
word. But “bonding” seems too simple. It is a very
profound deep feeling. Maybe it’s simple, yet profound
at the same time. I didn’t have this with my family of
origin. I just needed to write this and say that I
cherish this feeling and thank every one of you for
being part of its creation.