12/06/2010 05:19 am ET | Updated Nov 17, 2011

Grateful to Be Alive

There is no other activity that encompasses all aspects of living, of effort, of being, as much as this morning's activity. In the space of two hours, I was not only hovering at the break between the top of the sky and the bottom of outer space, but I then safely dropped down, all the way down below the boat. Each 10 feet, my body surrendered more light, and subsequently left behind the frenetic activity and noise of life above the waves. Slowly going down farther, I questioned whether it was safe to dive so far down, but I trusted my body, my tour guide and my breathing apparatus. Trusting and allowing: that's what this morning was. Surrender at its best.

Suddenly I was there, deeper than ever before, at a part of the ocean few have ever experienced. How many saw the PBS special when the machine dove down that far and photographed electric fish that carry their own light? To be flat on that soft silt, there is no temperature, no commotion, no static. It was quiet and I, comfortable. There was energy at that place, and emotion, pure astonished amazement at this human body's capacity to feel such feelings. How did I get here? How did I get past the fear that this was unsafe territory? I didn't feel like Houdini. I knew others had experienced this without handcuffs or stage devices. I knew that monks meditate for decades to find this stillness and have access to it regardless of the discomfort that is being felt by the personality. To be there and take it all inside, to fully resonate.

So many others spend the morning shopping, racing after sales, competing to get the object before the other, and get it to the register in order to walk out in ownership, but this was something I couldn't buy. There is not a store where I can go and get more of this. It doesn't matter how much you spend, no one can buy this. No one can take this from me. Once I've had it, it is in me forever, part of my memory, experienced by my blood and bone; this concrete moment becomes a vista forever. Since I've been there before, I can bring the picture back up into my mind anytime I need it. I can hover and then immediately vibrate, hum, purr.

If one wanted to go flying, it might take a morning to plan the flight, get to the airport, get patted down by TSA, board and take one's seat, then wait to get the okay for take off...

If one wanted to go far down beneath the boat, one needed equipment, someone to man the boat, someone to have taken barnacles off the boat, someone to have made sure it wasn't shark territory... so many things to think about when one wants to experience real environment. But in one's mind, in one's body there is a freedom to experience all that is possible on land and under water, above the light and under the cacophony. No matter what came before or comes afterward, those stellar moments make being human one of the most extraordinary reasons for living.