It's impossible to make bad decisions when you're swimming in 8 degree water.

"Never trust a thought that occurs to us indoors." Nietzsche

‘Into the water I go to lose my mind and find my soul.’

This quote is on a framed poster sitting on the top shelf above my writer’s desk. (I’m not sure of it’s origin.) It’s a powerful daily reminder to get out from behind my desk and get swimming.

I’ve lost my mind and found my soul almost every day since that last COVID lockdown in Melbourne in 2021. Even in the depths of winter, I immerse myself in some body of water. The pool, the ocean or the river, any water will do. I often joke to friends that I’d swim in a muddy puddle if it was deep enough.

The human connection to water runs deep in our biology. Evolutionary biologists point out that life on Earth began in the oceans, and some theories suggest that human ancestors had aquatic tendencies. Humans are born in water in the most primal and profound sense as we develop in the amniotic sac surrounded by amniotic fluid. This watery environment nurtures and protects us throughout our gestation until we are born.

As I reflect on how we began life in water, I wonder if at some sort of primeval and universal level, this is why the cold and wild-water swimming phenomenon has taken off across the globe, particularly since COVID.

Some of my Yarra Yabby swimming friends at Deep Rock.

While I love lapping the pool for exercise, it’s the wild waters of the ocean and rivers that give me the most joy and contentment. In My Journey with the Birrarung blog, I share the intimate details of my first swim in the Birrarung (Yarra) River at Deep Rock in Melbourne. The water was just eight degrees.

‘For the first time, I understand what it’s like to be intimate with nature, to be a part of her, not apart from her. This first swim is like a baptism. It’s an initiation into nature, a homecoming to a world I never knew I was missing, and craving.’

Some days, after a bad sleep, or after bad news (and it’s never felt so bad right now), I enter the water feeling out-of-sorts and mind racing. The colder the water, the quicker the mind is to slow down and become present. It’s hard to think about anything else when you’re confronted with the shock of the cold and the potential perils of unpredictable natural waters.

Swimming at Dromana on the Mornington Peninsula at sunset.

It doesn’t take long before the body is acclimatised and I’m able to take in nature’s gifts whether that’s the rolling sand hills at the ocean or the ducks and gum trees at the river. Without fail, I emerge a new person, lighter, surrendered, somewhat relieved of my monkey-mind.

Nietzsche once said ‘never trust a thought that occurs to us indoors.’ It’s a powerful call for humans to trust that our best thoughts occur when we are immersed in nature.

Wild-water swimming has most definitely improved my choices. If I have a problem to solve or lack creative inspiration, I leave it for the water. It’s hard to make a bad decision when your mind is clear, your heart is happy and your body is electric. I trust that any decision I make in the water, is the right one. It’s a decision of the whole body and soul, not just a head one. There’s no second-guessing. Maybe it’s because I’m not in control, the water is.

One of the grandfathers of wild-water swimming was Roger Deakin who wrote Waterlog in 1999. It’s a beautiful book tracing his attempts to discover his island nation from a new perspective. He embarks from his home in Suffolk to swim Britain — the seas, rivers, lakes, ponds, pools, streams, lochs, moats and quarries. This quote from the book says it better than I ever could.

‘I can dive in with a long face, and what feels like a terminal case of depression, and come out a whistling idiot. There is a feeling of absolute freedom and wildness that comes with the sheer liberation of nakedness as well as weightlessness in natural water, and it leads to a deep bond with the bathing-place.’

There is ample research and evidence now that cold and wild-water swimming is good for our mental health and wellbeing. I can’t recommend it enough.

Are you a wild-water swimmer? If so, I’d love to hear your story. If not, and you’re intrigued to know more, reach out, I’d love to share my swimming secrets with you. And if you’re ever down my way in Melbourne, Victoria, bring your togs and join me.

Remaking the world, one wild-water swimmer at a time.

With watery love

Carolyn xxx