Visceral. Heart-pounding. Ecstatic. Transcendent. This story has all of it and more. And you leave me at the end, comforted after all that, feeling grateful for the magnanimous capacity of the human heart.
This whole comment gave me such a grateful exhale. I love that you were comforted at the end- I so desperately wanted to convey the beauty right alongside the fear in this piece, so it wasn't just a heart-thumping scare. Thank you for picking up on that and for telling me! It is such a joy to write these and get feedback from this community. I'll never get over it. 💖
Thank you, Lise! Your breathing gets better!! I mean, if that's not a good reason to keep writing, I don't know what is. So much love to you, my friend!
HOLY. This whole piece feels holy and alive and stunning to the senses. Thank you for taking us with you and teaching us fear, and love, and beauty. Thank you for all of it. Xoxo
I'm an avid-though-landlocked diver, and I'm about to end a too-long surface interval next week. This got me SO hyped to be back in the danger and magic and wonder of our oceans. Thank you, Kendall! 🥹
I didn't know you were an avid diver- yet another reason to love you! I'm delighted that this story in particular made you want to get back into the ocean- yes, yes, yes! Have so much fun next week... I wish I could join you. 💖
Kendall, I had to hold my breath for a moment there. What a vivid episode of your life.
Now I wonder—what’s a marine biologist doing in the mountains workwise?
I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a great white in the wild (your story doesn’t reveal this). I have—from a small Cessna flying over Hermanus Bay in South Africa, scanning the waters for southern right whales. We saw both. The difference in size wasn’t as vast as I had expected, though still considerable.
Reading this, I could almost feel the cold water, the press of the dark, the pulse of life and fear intertwined. And that moment—the choice to stay, to count every last glowstick before letting yourself breathe again. That kind of instinct runs deeper than survival. Thank you for writing.
I was terrified this whole post! I also had a visceral reaction when you talked about your mother-instinct rising up.
My trauma inducing horror movie was The Birds, but the ocean has long held me in a grip of fear. I don't like swimming anywhere I cannot see my feet.
I am too busy hyper-focusing on my legs that I get smashed by waves.
On one beach trip I assiduously watched Shark Week; my husband asked me why on earth I had picked it. "Know your enemy" I replied. Shark Week is so much fun, but I learned everything practical about sharks from Jaws.
Oh my goodness, I'm worried I've totally ruined you now, Joelle! Alas, the trauma cannot be reasoned with, not even through Shark Week. 😅 I was also terrified of The Birds, and Arachnophobia (though I'm delighted to announce that I now bravely save the spiders in my house and return them to the "wild"). May you find your feet in the waves, my friend! I'm rooting for you!
Oddly, I am not terrified of snakes or spiders. I have a healthy awareness and remain wary, but you won't find me screaming. However, all the other arachnids will make me burn down the house. And roaches. Always roaches.
Dang, Kendall. This was incredible. I loved loved loved reading about night swimming. I've never gone out into the Pacific up here at night. San Diego at dusk for sure, but never night swimming. I have swum many many a night in the warmer Pacific of the tropics and experienced exactly what you so beautifully, magically described. The floating, the snick of the shrimp underwater, the stars, feeling like your body is nowhere and everywhere at once and not even a body anymore. The bioluminescence. I adored reading all of that.
And then the shark. I mean, of course I knew it was coming, but I was still scared. And all those kids. Holy ohmygosh. I raced through it, like one does with a really good murder mystery. Except I know what it feels like to be afraid of sharks out there surfing looking ever more like a tasty seal. But I've never seen one, or had to shuttle other humans away. And I loved that part too, Kendall, how you described the bigness of the human desire to care for others above self, especially small humans.
This comment has me soaring over here tonight, Jocelyn! Thank you for telling me that my description of nigh swimming felt so resonant with what you have experienced out there- I got a little choked up writing it, because I miss it so much, and it truly is magical, right? There is something otherworldly about it, "feeling like your body is nowhere and everywhere at once and not even a body anymore" is sublimely accurate. Yes, yes, yes. I also love that you raced through the shark part like a good murder mystery! I do this all the time, like I can out read the rising fear. I hope that you never see a white shark on your surfboard. I always used to feel extra vulnerable out there floating on a board, but that's ALSO such a peaceful, magical experience so we must dance with the danger, right? Anyway, thanks again for taking the time to share your thoughts with me, it truly makes me so happy. (Also, I edited the heck out of this one- I took giant chunks out and then rewrote sections. It was a wrestling match! What's up with those pieces??)
I can't quite put to words exactly how, but this story healed a little piece of me today. Amazing chapter, an amazing life. So grateful to be right here as a witness.
“Danger and magic sit side by side, you see. To be alive in this world, you must dance with both, even if it scares the shit out of you.” 🙌 Holy Wow-Yes!!!!✨
This was such a delicious read Kendall!!
I love the way you weave wonder & fear with magic & the holy unknowns.
You are So Brave to venture the Oceanic depths! I am terrified by the whole notion. Though I did try to become scuba certified, the timing couldn’t have been more wrong for me personally & well now it’s like a trauma imprint of sorts that I’ve yet to heal, but still hope to- because Yes! I want to be “Alive” so I must learn to swim with danger & magic.😉
I want to step into a Giant Pause & savor every one of your stories. I intend to soon.
The way you described shaking at the end, after the kids were safe & settled- this made me so happy to read! (And if this sounds nutty, I apologize, it’s just that we are the only mammals that don’t literally shake off our traumas - hence storing them in our bodies. And so your shaking- the natural impulse to do so & you following it- delighted me!!!
Wow, Colleen! What a generous and beautiful comment! I see your SCUBA trauma and totally understand- diving can be really terrifying if the circumstances are not just right. I'm delighted that you found "wonder & fear with magic & the holy unknowns" in this piece- truly, I want to paint those words on my bathroom mirror for inspiration. 💖😍 And I'm so glad that you picked up on the shaking at the end- yes! That was what I was hoping to convey- I truly think that the release of the fear in that moment helped me so much more than I even understood at the time. I'm so honored that you're here, savoring and jumping into the conversation. THANK YOU!
Oh, Kendall!! First, I want to let you know that when I saw a new piece of yours in my inbox, internally I squealed , “Yaaay!” And second, Oh. My. Gosh. This particular story and the way you’ve crafted it have me awestruck and speechless. I will go back into the waters of this one again and again.
Wow - so many layers of beauty. So many gifts to behold in this story. As an open water swimmer I FELT every nerve in my body fire - electric and alive as I read this story. And to come home, to rest in the knowing that magic and danger do exist side by side while it doesn't necessarily calm those frightening images of seals thrown in the air or bleeding out with gaping wounds, it does remind me that stepping on to the dance floor is exhilarating and life affirming. Thank you Kendall for continuing to dance with the magic and the danger and for sharing that dance with us.
Visceral. Heart-pounding. Ecstatic. Transcendent. This story has all of it and more. And you leave me at the end, comforted after all that, feeling grateful for the magnanimous capacity of the human heart.
This whole comment gave me such a grateful exhale. I love that you were comforted at the end- I so desperately wanted to convey the beauty right alongside the fear in this piece, so it wasn't just a heart-thumping scare. Thank you for picking up on that and for telling me! It is such a joy to write these and get feedback from this community. I'll never get over it. 💖
Gorgeous ✨
Keep on writing, kendall!!!
This is so good!
Each time, you remind me of the world i love with your words!!!
And my breathing gets better 🤗
So Raw and beautiful !!!
Thank you 😘
Thank you, Lise! Your breathing gets better!! I mean, if that's not a good reason to keep writing, I don't know what is. So much love to you, my friend!
Wow. Just, wow. I think I stopped breathing while reading that. So incredibly powerful, visceral. Well done!
Breathe! ❤😂 And thank you so much for your words!
HOLY. This whole piece feels holy and alive and stunning to the senses. Thank you for taking us with you and teaching us fear, and love, and beauty. Thank you for all of it. Xoxo
Thank you, Mesa! I could not ask for a better reaction than HOLY. Love taking you with me on this writing/life journey. xoxo
I'm an avid-though-landlocked diver, and I'm about to end a too-long surface interval next week. This got me SO hyped to be back in the danger and magic and wonder of our oceans. Thank you, Kendall! 🥹
I didn't know you were an avid diver- yet another reason to love you! I'm delighted that this story in particular made you want to get back into the ocean- yes, yes, yes! Have so much fun next week... I wish I could join you. 💖
I wish that, too! 🧡
Keep on writing
Kendall, I had to hold my breath for a moment there. What a vivid episode of your life.
Now I wonder—what’s a marine biologist doing in the mountains workwise?
I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a great white in the wild (your story doesn’t reveal this). I have—from a small Cessna flying over Hermanus Bay in South Africa, scanning the waters for southern right whales. We saw both. The difference in size wasn’t as vast as I had expected, though still considerable.
Reading this, I could almost feel the cold water, the press of the dark, the pulse of life and fear intertwined. And that moment—the choice to stay, to count every last glowstick before letting yourself breathe again. That kind of instinct runs deeper than survival. Thank you for writing.
I was terrified this whole post! I also had a visceral reaction when you talked about your mother-instinct rising up.
My trauma inducing horror movie was The Birds, but the ocean has long held me in a grip of fear. I don't like swimming anywhere I cannot see my feet.
I am too busy hyper-focusing on my legs that I get smashed by waves.
On one beach trip I assiduously watched Shark Week; my husband asked me why on earth I had picked it. "Know your enemy" I replied. Shark Week is so much fun, but I learned everything practical about sharks from Jaws.
Oh my goodness, I'm worried I've totally ruined you now, Joelle! Alas, the trauma cannot be reasoned with, not even through Shark Week. 😅 I was also terrified of The Birds, and Arachnophobia (though I'm delighted to announce that I now bravely save the spiders in my house and return them to the "wild"). May you find your feet in the waves, my friend! I'm rooting for you!
Oddly, I am not terrified of snakes or spiders. I have a healthy awareness and remain wary, but you won't find me screaming. However, all the other arachnids will make me burn down the house. And roaches. Always roaches.
I will never be ok with roaches. Nope. No.
Loved every word!! Terrific writing, Kendall. Wow! Have you read Matt Haig’s The Life Impossible? You must asap 😁 if you haven’t. You will love it.
Susan, I have not read that but at your behest I am putting it on my library loan list immediately! And thank you for the wonderful encouragement. ❤️
Dang, Kendall. This was incredible. I loved loved loved reading about night swimming. I've never gone out into the Pacific up here at night. San Diego at dusk for sure, but never night swimming. I have swum many many a night in the warmer Pacific of the tropics and experienced exactly what you so beautifully, magically described. The floating, the snick of the shrimp underwater, the stars, feeling like your body is nowhere and everywhere at once and not even a body anymore. The bioluminescence. I adored reading all of that.
And then the shark. I mean, of course I knew it was coming, but I was still scared. And all those kids. Holy ohmygosh. I raced through it, like one does with a really good murder mystery. Except I know what it feels like to be afraid of sharks out there surfing looking ever more like a tasty seal. But I've never seen one, or had to shuttle other humans away. And I loved that part too, Kendall, how you described the bigness of the human desire to care for others above self, especially small humans.
This whole thing. Just wow. xoxox
This comment has me soaring over here tonight, Jocelyn! Thank you for telling me that my description of nigh swimming felt so resonant with what you have experienced out there- I got a little choked up writing it, because I miss it so much, and it truly is magical, right? There is something otherworldly about it, "feeling like your body is nowhere and everywhere at once and not even a body anymore" is sublimely accurate. Yes, yes, yes. I also love that you raced through the shark part like a good murder mystery! I do this all the time, like I can out read the rising fear. I hope that you never see a white shark on your surfboard. I always used to feel extra vulnerable out there floating on a board, but that's ALSO such a peaceful, magical experience so we must dance with the danger, right? Anyway, thanks again for taking the time to share your thoughts with me, it truly makes me so happy. (Also, I edited the heck out of this one- I took giant chunks out and then rewrote sections. It was a wrestling match! What's up with those pieces??)
I can't quite put to words exactly how, but this story healed a little piece of me today. Amazing chapter, an amazing life. So grateful to be right here as a witness.
Anything I can offer that heals any part of you is worth every minute of effort. I love sharing this planet with you. 💙
❤️🩹✨🌠 I love you
“Danger and magic sit side by side, you see. To be alive in this world, you must dance with both, even if it scares the shit out of you.” 🙌 Holy Wow-Yes!!!!✨
This was such a delicious read Kendall!!
I love the way you weave wonder & fear with magic & the holy unknowns.
You are So Brave to venture the Oceanic depths! I am terrified by the whole notion. Though I did try to become scuba certified, the timing couldn’t have been more wrong for me personally & well now it’s like a trauma imprint of sorts that I’ve yet to heal, but still hope to- because Yes! I want to be “Alive” so I must learn to swim with danger & magic.😉
I want to step into a Giant Pause & savor every one of your stories. I intend to soon.
The way you described shaking at the end, after the kids were safe & settled- this made me so happy to read! (And if this sounds nutty, I apologize, it’s just that we are the only mammals that don’t literally shake off our traumas - hence storing them in our bodies. And so your shaking- the natural impulse to do so & you following it- delighted me!!!
Thank you for your words!!! 🤗✨
Wow, Colleen! What a generous and beautiful comment! I see your SCUBA trauma and totally understand- diving can be really terrifying if the circumstances are not just right. I'm delighted that you found "wonder & fear with magic & the holy unknowns" in this piece- truly, I want to paint those words on my bathroom mirror for inspiration. 💖😍 And I'm so glad that you picked up on the shaking at the end- yes! That was what I was hoping to convey- I truly think that the release of the fear in that moment helped me so much more than I even understood at the time. I'm so honored that you're here, savoring and jumping into the conversation. THANK YOU!
♥️🥰So Grateful! I Adore your writing!!
Oh, Kendall!! First, I want to let you know that when I saw a new piece of yours in my inbox, internally I squealed , “Yaaay!” And second, Oh. My. Gosh. This particular story and the way you’ve crafted it have me awestruck and speechless. I will go back into the waters of this one again and again.
You internally squealed for me?! That's the greatest compliment I could ask for! Thank you, Kinsey. 🥹 Keep swimming!
Wow - so many layers of beauty. So many gifts to behold in this story. As an open water swimmer I FELT every nerve in my body fire - electric and alive as I read this story. And to come home, to rest in the knowing that magic and danger do exist side by side while it doesn't necessarily calm those frightening images of seals thrown in the air or bleeding out with gaping wounds, it does remind me that stepping on to the dance floor is exhilarating and life affirming. Thank you Kendall for continuing to dance with the magic and the danger and for sharing that dance with us.