Commentary: Powerful lessons forged from waves of adversity

Beneath the horizon lies the sea, a swirling mass of mystery. Where seaweed swings, as mermaids dance. Ethereal sway, as though by chance. Poetry in motion. The ocean. My favorite place to be … so it made sense to go swimming that day, more than 30 years ago.

At a time in life where the consequence of newly found freedom and responsibility merge. I was 21 or so. It was a sunny, beautiful day in Newport Beach. I was encouraged by a friend to swim as far as he planned to go, to the end of the pier.

He had recently completed a successful stint in the Coast Guard. I thought he surely knew, better than I, how to assess the risks of treading out that far. My gut instinct sensed fear. I dismissed it. We ventured out anyway. Bathed in sunlight, submerged in cool salt water, and fresh breezy air. It was delightful, up until the point that it wasn’t anymore. I started to drown.

Not in the sense of emotion, or aesthetic bliss but there in the water. I was really drowning. It was soon after I started to feel tired. We turned around and headed back toward land. But every time I pressed forward, the sheer force of the water drove me back. I knew nothing about the dangerous undercurrent, or that I should swim parallel to the shore. I became exhausted.

In fact, things deteriorated so rapidly, I could no longer keep my head above water. I called out for help and my friend held me up. Until he couldn’t anymore.

The waves crashed into us mercilessly. Hit after hit, until I understood that I was about to die. I didn’t notice the young lifeguard, plowing toward us through the surf, ferociously determined to preserve a life. Humanity personified.

He was driven by hope, the anticipation of a successful outcome. He was confident enough in his own abilities to risk his own safety. In an instant, something appeared in front of me, as a voice yelled at me to grab it and hang on.

I did grab it, but can’t recall anything after that. Not sure if time faded my memory or if I simply blacked out. What I do remember: hot sand, nausea, dizziness, the sensation of salt burning my throat as I coughed up water. The faces staring down at me. The embarrassment. The profound gratitude. The promise life grants to the young fulfilled.

There are hard lessons to be learned in the shadow of adversity. First, we shouldn’t assume that others know what is best for us. Trust the value of instinct and follow it. Second, life is fragile and problems really can be insurmountable at times.

When we get in over our heads, find someone to hold us up. Remember there is help out there. No shame in asking for it. And someone wants to give it. Also, know that even the most negative of emotions will eventually pass and, when we are lucky, so will bad circumstances.

We all make dumb mistakes, too. When you fall down six times, get up seven. Surviving adversity breeds experience and confidence. And where there is confidence, accomplishment is sure to follow.

Let us believe in ourselves, in our own value, our inherent goodness. Remember the kindness we extend to others. Let us remember our gifts, and talents, and share them generously.

May our holidays be bright, full of joy and laughter. And may the New Year bring faith, hope and love.

And the greatest of these is love.

Freelance writer KATHY CLINKENBEARD lives in Costa Mesa.