You never step into the
same whirlpool twice went through my head
while one of the whirlpool jets was giving me a much needed
back massage. There was a limit of thirteen people per whirlpool (a
biblical number as well as one of superstitious precaution) and at
that particular time there were six, including me. Everyone was
minding their own water space and paying little attention to others.
In fact, that was all
right with me. The whirlpool is my personal treat for fulfilling my
given laps of swimming. I always go and do this alone and treat it as
a serious and focused endeavor. In other words, I go with the hopeful
intention to get myself into a somewhat acceptable body shape, and
more often than not, I end up walking out refreshed while slightly
sore.
So I rarely, in fact
almost never, strike up a conversation. I see it as a strict and
unwavering business deal I have with myself and not as a social
event. I do not go to meet people or to chit-chat or philosophize.
The few times people talk to me I either nod or smile and generally
pretend to know no English. It gets me out of unwanted conversations
rather easily. I am not usually that anti-social except when I am in
and around the swimming and whirling pool.
But the words I lack in
speaking, I make up for in heady thoughts. Some of my (dare I say
better) blog inspirations have come from and during swimming
pointlessly from one end of the pool to the other. Some ideas pop up
while I am sweating in the sauna or relaxing in the hot tub. This
post is both dedicated to the process of my writing and inspiration
while also being one of its offbeat offspring.
As Heraclitus famously
stated the river we enter is never the same as moments before, and
this shows us the flexibility and the constant changes of life. Every
moment is unique and has its own rhythm and tune as well as its
idiosyncratic beat of synchronicity. Not only do the externals
change, but so do we inside. The “me” who started this post is
slightly different from the one that is finishing it. Put
differently, I am now different because of my contact and interaction
with particles of the external world.
But I think the image of a
whirlpool is even more convincing than the river. Although it is
limited in space, the water is constantly whirling in front of our
eyes, and it touches and leaves our skin in constant flow.
So as we are sitting each
at our jet stream minding our own business, even avoiding any
accidental eye contact, all this time our bodies are connected or
interconnected in this fluid pool. In fact, it is a strangely
intimate scene. The water that has touched me is already in contact
with the person next to me. It is like the mysterious aether of old
except in a liquid form.
It must have been a rather
good workout that afternoon, but I felt that life was the same way:
an interconnected ebb and flow of situations. We may live in
different parts of the world and have our own preoccupations and
stresses, but at the end of the day, the world is a whirlpool. It
pulsates with life, but each action ripples across the universe (to
borrow a Beatles phrase) and all this will have an effect on us as
well.
Evidently, the events will
differ in intensity and degree, but eventually whatever is done will
have an impact on you even if you are an anti-social and taciturn
whirlpooler. This can be seen politically as well on significant
changes and damages we cause on our environment through pollution and
its aftereffects in the form of global warming. Not to mention the
veritable possibility of freely and generously sharing bacteria and
viruses in the limited watery space.
But the good is equally
interconnected. The happiness that we exude and sometimes create in
others will also spread its vibes across the whirlpool. It will touch
the person next to you. Maybe they will not be aware of it, but it
has come into contact with them; it has left its imprint on their
skin.
And as time goes by and
lives are lived, the whirlpool is still whirling. (Do they ever
change the water I sometimes wonder?) It contains and stores the
memories and events, and everything is waiting to come into contact
with the next person who enters its stream. And that is not limited
to the living, but includes the dead and their dusty after-remains.
We may believe that we are islands upon ourselves, but we are
connected via water and air, and no one is exempt or left out.