The Dive

My husband and I were celebrating our twentieth wedding anniversary on the Big Island of Kona, Hawaii. Our son was finishing his first year in college. He would be coming home for the Summer shortly after we returned to the mainland.

We decided to walk one of the beaches that was less densely populated. In the distance, there were four or five young men, not much older than our son, on a diving cliff. There were other people about, which made me think that it was a popular spot. However, these young men appeared “different”.

The verified five men were just standing at the edge of the cliff. Their body language suggested that they were having a conversation. They were pensive. Suddenly, one man bellowed out something in Hawaiian and threw himself over the cliff. His friends cheered him on. They were all relieved when he surfaced. He swam with vigor to the beach below and started his climb back up for another leap.

One of the other guys, motivated by the first’s enthusiasm, stepped toward the edge. He looked out at the monochromatic blues of the ocean. It looked like he was more interested in what was out there than the depths below. His enthusiasm dissipated. He stepped back from the edge and sat down.

Another friend shook his head, disappointed in his buddy for not taking a turn. He moved closer to the lip of the cliff. He stood tall. He took in a deep breath. I swore that he smiled and performed the most beautiful dive I ever saw. My husband remarked as he followed my stare long ago and seemed to read my mind. We studied the scene and looked for the young man to surface. As we waited, we noticed a smaller form swimming toward the place where the third man met with the water. Soon, there were no more ripples from the dive.

A short while later, the two forms swam as one toward the beach. We were relieved that they were safe. The first guy flung himself over the edge another time and then once again. The fourth young man appeared less confident about diving. He peered over the edge, seeming paralyzed with fear. He chose to sit next to the friend that had no interest. Fear prevailed.

The last young man decided to take his turn. The water was getting rough, the tide was coming in for mid-day. He dove and somehow missed his mark. When he surfaced, his left shoulder was bloody. He got too close to the lava rocks hiding below the water. The elements changed and he was too slow to adapt. He shook it off, but it didn’t seem as though he would try again for some time.

My husband and I looked at one another and smiled. After twenty years of marriage, we both saw the analogy that just played out before us.

The dive was like marriage for each of the young men. The same would apply if it were five women standing there. It’s just human nature. The first guy was hung-ho. He didn’t fear the idea of marriage. He would be the friend that had several ex-wives and great stories to tell about each one. The next young man had dreams that attracted him more than the idea of settling down. The next man was the one guy that was genuinely ready for love and marriage. His bride-to-be met him and they continued on their journey together. The next to last man wanted to avoid the topic of marriage completely for one reason or another. Either it just wasn’t for him or the conditions weren’t right. The last young man knew marriage was something he should do, but needed more time to do it right.

My husband and I decided that the magic of the morning was over. We continued our walk along the beach, together.

 

THE END