I was 7 years old. I sat on the staircase of my apartment building where I lived with my mother. I gazed through the window in front of me, pondering the ‘why’ and the ‘how,’ attempting to define the meaning of myself: Who is this person inside me? Why do I think this way? Why do I act like that? Why do I feel this way? At such an early age, I already had a profound interest in existential philosophy, although I lacked the knowledge and experience to answer many of my questions. There was a constant hunger for more knowledge, a need to fill the void. I would ask my mother, ‘Who am I?’ She would reply, ‘You’re my daughter. You are Capucine, and you are 7 years old.”
As I transitioned into adulthood, that sense of being different remained, though the reasons behind it remained elusive. Even though I cherished my strong circle of friends, I continued to seek refuge in nature, in tranquility, in wide-open spaces—drawn to something I couldn’t fully grasp at the time…
When I started travelling, adventures and experiences became the predominant way of life for me. It was during a trip to Panama that I decided to become certified for scuba diving. I learned to dive in the natural pool of the ocean. While at the water’s surface, I had some apprehension about what lay beneath, but as I descended into the ocean, I felt an unusual sense of security. It was like floating in space, entering an undersea world where worries and efforts dissolved into the void.
In the ocean’s depths, I found myself far from the surface’s light, disconnected from the reality I knew, and immersed in the darkness of the deep. I felt a profound sense of selflessness. There was something extraordinarily special and unique about diving that piqued my curiosity. I yearned to return to the underwater realm, to explore that state of mind I had discovered.
When I moved to the Caribbean, I had the privilege of being surrounded by one of the best diving playgrounds in the world. I seized the opportunity to dive frequently. Each dive held its own surprises, secrets, poetry, and romance. Yet, it wasn’t solely about encountering a shark, an eagle ray, or a moray eel. It was a chance to completely detach from the world and from my own self. Diving represented a disengagement from my daily reality, a release from all worries, and a shedding of worldly desires. Above all, it allowed me to let go of doing and embrace a state of pure being.
While breathing underwater, I’ve never felt so disconnected from my conventional perception of reality, that persistent illusion of life at the surface. Yet, this void, this unconsciousness I encountered underwater, paradoxically brought a profound consciousness into my life. I became acutely aware of my breathing, my surroundings, and every minute detail that surrounded me. In that state of void, I found myself filled with blissful awareness. It wasn’t just an awareness of my body and the existence of my mind, which I had pondered since the age of 7; it was also an awareness of my soul, my consciousness.
I noticed the vast openness, the emptiness that allowed all things to exist. I came to understand that you can’t have something without nothing, just as you need emptiness to perceive solidity, a background to appreciate contrast. By emptying myself, I allowed the ocean to fill me in. I became intricately connected with the elements—I was the ocean, the fish, a part of it all. That was my reality.
Living life one breath at a time. Each inhalation purifies my mind, and each exhalation liberates a worry. It clears my mind, ridding it of contaminated ideas and thoughts, leading to a return to the mind’s intrinsic purity and emptiness. In those moments, nothing else in the world matters except for breathing and being.
Breathing underwater is nothing like our daily life at the surface. It’s one deep and leisurely breath at a time. There’s absolutely no rush because, if you hurry, it can be fatal. So, is life at the surface all that different? Why are people rushing so much on Earth? Where are they trying to go when it may not be a quicker journey to their final destination?
Many people fear nothingness and view emptiness as a negative state. Just as some find scuba diving boring or lacking in thrill, their reality is shaped by their own concepts and influenced by a culture that emphasizes constant busyness, effort, and a relentless pursuit of ‘better’ and ‘bigger’ for a sense of self.
Yet, at the core of reality lies nothingness. When one experiences the true essence of nothingness, it unveils the meaning of everything. It offers clarity, making room for new choices and opening up a world of possibilities, as the void is fertile and brings forth new things.
Scuba diving not only allows me to marvel at the simplicity of nature and the grandeur of the ocean but also bestows upon me blissful awareness, clarity, happiness, and peace. It enables me to rest in the stillness and tranquility of my being, to connect with my surroundings and the elements, and to rediscover the essence of who I am and who I aspire to be in this world.
Footloose Diary 