自我旅行

“清晨黄昏，日复一日，活着就要开心。”

Self-Exploration Journey

Zhang Sanjian is back – October 14, 2024, 07:16

“Every morning, every evening, Ain’t we got fun。”

——《Young Woman and the Sea》

I recently watched a swimming-themed movie called Young Women and the Sea. I couldn’t help but wonder if the title was a nod to Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea. The movie follows Trudy, a young American girl who, in 1926, became the first woman to swim across the English Channel.

When we think of sports films, we often imagine dramatic competitions, intense battles between athletes and their limits, and inspirational comebacks. But this movie also highlights other struggles—gender and racial discrimination, along with Trudy’s partial hearing loss since childhood. These internal and external challenges become her hurdles to overcome.

This reminded me of the movie Hidden Figures and the brilliance of independent women fighting against societal prejudice. Similar to that, Young Woman and the Sea captures both the emotional journey and determination of a woman overcoming constraints. While the competitive aspect is central, as expected from a Disney film, it also has a gentle, healing core. A mother’s persistence, a sister’s companionship, and a female coach’s trust became the support that helped Trudy swim from a boiler room pool to the Atlantic Ocean and, finally, across the English Channel to make history.

The English Channel swim spans about 34 kilometers. Trudy begins her journey at dawn, her breath steady as she steps into the vast, turbulent sea. She swims through swarms of red jellyfish, leaving her body covered in painful welts. She exhausts herself battling strong currents and swims through freezing water, only to encounter thick fog. As her guide boat was pushed onto the shoal , Trudy finds herself lost in the darkness for the final five miles, with no boat to lead her.

“How will she find her way?”

The soundtrack swells as Trudy, frozen and exhausted, drifts in the water, her spirit nearly broken. Just when she starts losing hope, distant glimmers appear—bonfires lit along the Dover cliffs. Bit by bit, the tiny lights grow into a blaze, guiding her toward the shore.

“The whole world awaits good news.”

Perhaps what they were waiting for was a response from faith, a rebirth in desperation, and a near-paranoid courage to act despite knowing it may be futile. The flames burning along the cliffs not only light Trudy’s way but also ignite the fearless, unacknowledged spiritual field within every observer, encouraging them to swim against the tides and waves of the times.

Watching Young Woman and the Sea inspired me deeply. The spirit of competition and tenacity transcends time and distance, leaving a profound impact. It also rekindled memories of my own journey in swimming, marking my first taste of persistence when I ‘left home and my parents, and drank from ponds and reservoirs’.

I remember that as a child, I was always afraid of water, even terrified of the moment the showerhead sprayed water while bathing. Yet, before I developed this psychological and physiological fear, I had never actually been in any swimming pool, pond, or river. Why? Thanks to my family’s relentless storytelling—tales of water monsters in rivers, getting entangled in water plants, and so on. Water—thus was separated from me by a solid barrier in my young mind.

A few years later, my rebellious spirit began to emerge. I got into arguments with my family because I wanted to study art, and I even ran away from home (a mistake—please don’t imitate). I took a bus to the countryside to find my classmates. At that time, the village was filled with mud houses, and I would stay in one house for a couple of days, then another for a few days, waiting at mealtime with my bowl on a small stool.

There was a river near the village where my classmates grew up, and naturally, they all knew how to swim. One hot afternoon, we walked from the fields to the river and saw a group of kids diving in. My classmates quickly stripped off their shirts and rushed into the water, and I jumped in with them. The leap was exhilarating, but the moment I touched the water, reality hit me: I couldn’t swim! It was too late. My instinct as a non-swimmer kicked in, and I flailed about in a panic, kicking and gasping for air as water flooded my mouth. My classmates, while dodging my wild splashes and kicks, pulled me to safety, bit by bit, until I was back on the shore. That was my debut in swimming. I bowed and took my leave. 🤐

By the age of seventeen or eighteen, my youthful pride and defiance made me secretly determined to overcome my fear and learn to swim. At that time, a water park opened in Xinyu, where children played in the water slide area, and everyone relaxed in the family zone after swimming. I practiced alone in the deep end, where the water was deep enough to reach my nose while standing, allowing me to breathe. I held my breath, kicked my legs, looked up, oops, forgot to breathe, paddled, ran out of air, and gulped down water… I lost track of how much water I drank from the amusement park. After each swimming session, I would come home with diarrhea, a vicious cycle. Nevertheless, I eventually learned how to swim with an imperfect and unconventional breaststroke style.

This year, I tried free diving, reaching depths of around 10 meters to find whales. At first, when these massive underwater creatures appeared beside me, I was overwhelmed by a sense of unreality; they felt so distant from our everyday lives, which initially triggered genuine fear. Gradually, I began to play with them, listening to their songs, and quietly observing as they sank underwater to sleep. They showed no aggression towards humans. Even when they were resting, I made sure to keep my distance, as I heard that if they woke up and saw someone nearby, they might be startled.

After watching Young Woman and the Sea, I also noticed another swimming-themed documentary,NYAD. The two films were released close together and both focus on female long-distance swimming events. I was pleasantly surprised that NYAD chose to forgo many conventional formulas and clever details in both its on-screen and behind-the-scenes collaboration. This aspect truly impressed me; while accumulating experiences can make one stronger, actively discarding common approaches can also be a form of determination and courage.

The NYAD filming team consists of the husband-and-wife duo Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi and Jimmy Chin, renowned for their documentary filmmaking and Oscar-winning work. In NYAD , they focus on portraying the utmost realism, emphasizing the sport of swimming itself and the dynamic relationship between the two protagonists. Jodie Foster and Annette Bening depict the core friendship between the main characters, illustrating how they part ways due to differing viewpoints before ultimately coming together to overcome challenges. Their sincere performances add significant depth and texture to the film.

Returning to the film, the protagonist, Nyad, was a marathon swimmer in her youth and later became a sports journalist after retiring. One day, she remembered a dream she had never realized in her youth—swimming from Cuba to Florida, a distance of over 110 miles, known as the ‘Mount Everest of swimming.’ Thus, at the age of 60, she embarked on this challenge.

Just a note: at the beginning, I mentioned the story of ‘The Old Man and the Sea’, which is also set on the seas of Cuba. The old man sails his small boat alone, his eyes looking at the blue sky, where the sun rises, and the sun is a goal he cannot reach.’Just like the sea that Nyad looks out upon, she faces not only longer distances, age, physical endurance, sudden changes in weather, ocean currents, and the erosion of skin from prolonged exposure to seawater, but also a more complex marine environment. The Gulf Stream, being the largest warm current on Earth, nurtures many deadly marine creatures, particularly the highly venomous box jellyfish, Portuguese man o’ war, and migrating sharks heading north.

She was stung by the tentacles of a box jellyfish in the sea, leaving her skin marked with whip-like scars, and as the venom spread, it led to paralysis throughout her body. She was also pushed into opposing currents and encountered sharks. The prolonged high-intensity energy expenditure caused her to experience hallucinations in the water, where the illusory Taj Mahal appeared on the ocean floor, and she felt as if seagulls were pecking at her, as if her spirit was being both detached and whipped.

When Nyad flipped through a book that her mother had read before she passed away, she saw a folded corner on a page with the words: ‘Tell me, what else should I have done? Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

Sometimes, the purity that captivates us isn’t about indifference to what others say, but rather about entering a state of absolute focus where we can neither see nor hear anyone else. This clean energy is a complete loyalty to oneself. Whether it’s a long journey, underwater diving, running a marathon, or cycling, it feels like a grand self-exploration. In the beginning, we may have companions, but once we enter a tranquil flow of the heart, we find ourselves alone. Underwater, we are surrounded by a silent and closed-off ocean; while driving, the earth opens up to you, with endless distant horizons sparking limitless thoughts; and when cycling, the spirit is vibrant and wild, accompanied only by the wind in your ears.

This self-exploration can also be a form of self-cultivation, learning, and trying to change. Quietude is equally enriching, as we pursue perseverance, and confidence, or learn to love and be loved on this earth.

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Self-Exploration Journey

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