I suppose that I’ve never felt like I belong
anywhere. Not in the stereotypical misfit sense, I mean I had friends, I was
reasonably popular, I grew up in a nice area, but in terms of a sense of
attachment to something. When I had my first real experiences with the ocean;
catching my first wave and exploring the underwater world I suddenly felt like I
had discovered the reason I had been put here. I finally found a place that I
did belong: in the ocean.
There is something indescribable about the feeling
I get when I’m in the ocean; I feel so lost and yet so found, so vulnerable and
yet so powerful and so engulfed and yet so free. I feel ALIVE. There is nothing
quite like it. Being underwater is like being in another world, one which
provides you with a chance to escape the stoic reverie we call human existence
and just live.
All I know is I am nothing out of
the ocean and I lost myself at sea. Don’t find me; don’t try to find me. I am
free.
I have the dream job. I’m travel
the world scuba diving different oceans and I am currently living on a
beautiful island in the middle of the Atlantic, 900 miles from the nearest land
mass. I get paid to scuba dive 3 times a day, whilst exploring shipwrecks and
stunning reefs.
I wake up every day knowing that
I’m incredibly lucky, however a lot of people tell me that I am lucky to be
doing my job, but as Samuel Goldwyn once said; “The harder you work, the
luckier you get.”
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