Why Do I Swim?

A linocut, a book recommendation and a poem.

Just a brief one from me this week.

It's a scorcher of a weekend, and all I really want to do is jump in the sea, but my nearest beach (only 15 minutes’ walk from where I live) has been awarded a less-than-coveted Brown Flag status, with water quality classed as Poor (mainly due to sewage being pumped out into the sea every time it rains) and an advisory notice not to swim posted on the part of the promenade directly south of my house. So, I could get in the sea, but I’d have to make absolutely sure I didn't have any cuts on my body, and keep my mouth firmly shut and my head well above water. And that rather dampens my enthusiasm for the entire endeavour.

So I will compensate for the inability to cool myself off in the effluent-laden waters of Worthing beach with three things:

1. The utterly beautiful linocut above, which is by the extremely talented Hazel McNab (details here). I bought this giclée print a few months ago and still need to get it framed. Every time I look at it, I want to dive into it a la the opening chapter of C S Lewis’ The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.

2. Reading There Are Rivers In The Sky by Elif Shafak.

   

   This is such an evocative and compelling book, about the nature of water and humanity’s relationship with rivers, it has seriously made me want to put lavender in my coffee, revisit the British Museum and get myself tattooed in cuneiform. I’ve reached the stage where I’m nearly finished, and so am walking that tightrope between devouring it to find out what happens and going really slowly to savour every last sentence, because I just don't want it to end.

3. Publishing a poem I have recently reworked from something I wrote a few years ago and refound this week, as a screenshot I’d emailed to myself when I had to update my phone last year.

Swimming lengths of my local pool was one of the things that kept me sane in the wake of my mother’s sudden death in 2020. I’ve always had an affinity with water, and the feeling of weightlessness, wonder and wholeness that deep water gives. I don't swim enough and I really should do it more, as there are so many proven physical and mental health benefits. I shouldn’t need to persuade myself. But here I am, writing this, just weighing up the prospect of chlorine and veruccas against fresh air, salt water and e-coli. Sigh. Anyway - the poem.

Why Do I Swim?

Sometimes to still my mind,

Sometimes to sift it,

Like archaeology in reverse,

Letting past thoughts fall away

To focus on the present moment.

Sometimes to sort my thoughts like a cutlery drawer,

Lining them up to nestle in the cool, calm space

Between strokes straight through the water.

Sometimes I count lengths, like longform knitting,

Careful not to wander or drop a stitch.

Sometimes I consciously lose count.

I like to swim until my shoulder blades

Burn with the weight of invisible wings

Until my mind sings the universal note

And my heart is light and buoyant,

Afloat in my body's ocean.

(April 2021, updated July 2025)