The Dive Evangelist

This weekend Oceanblue Divers had a fantastic barbeque and dive at Dutch Springs Quarry.

We met up and we laughed and we traded stories about the places that we had each been and where some of us were going or hoping to go. I met some folks I've heard about and I met some folks I've never heard of before and I met some folks I haven't seen in months and I was grateful to see them all. The grill was hot, the drinks were cold, and the company was rock'n'roll.

We went diving. Sure, it's not the Caribbean, but it was diving. The relaxing burble-and-swoosh of the regulator. The weightless drifting. Even a curious fish or two to stare down. The cool serenity of being underwater away from the heat of the dry world above. It was a perfect day for diving.

It was a perfect day.

But that was yesterday.

Today was spent thinking about diving, about how great yesterday was, about how it is going to be a week until I get back into the water, about how I'm not sure when my next trip will be. Preoccupation filled most of the day, as it fills most days. I hung around the Oceanblue website along with the other diving messageboards, magazines, and blogs that I read over and over, whether there are new postings or not.

More than once (OK, more than 100 onces) I closed my eyes and put myself back in the water. Just as many times I opened my eyes to disappointment. I can't imagine that such single-mindedness is at all healthy, but am I about to stop giving myself over to it? Are you kidding?

Each and every day is spent dedicated to diving, mind, body, and soul. The crummy thing is that, despite the permeation, far too many of the days are spent dry.

Diving isn't a hobby. It isn't a sport.

It is an obsession. It is a fixation. It is an addiction. And I love it... no matter how much the withdraw hurts.