A Dharma Glimpse by Chris E-S
A couple of years ago, I wrote a Dharma Glimpse about swimming. Since then, my technique has improved significantly and I have gone from being a very below-average swimmer to being a fairly decent one. I still don’t qualify for the fast lane – I’m not sure I ever will – but can comfortably hold my own in the medium lane. I swim most days now, with Saturday being my only usual day off, and I can honestly say it is something I really enjoy doing. It’s not just that I enjoy it: the added benefits of improved fitness, flexibility and stamina are not to be sniffed at.
Although my technique and ability have improved by leaps and bounds, one thing that has not changed is my focus during the swim. A couple of people (non-swimmers, I venture to guess) have asked me if I don’t get bored, trundling up and down the same lane for 40-plus times each day. My answer is always no, but I haven’t told them the reason why I don’t get bored. I can tell you, because as Pure Land Buddhists I know you will understand. I say the nembutsu as I swim. Amida is with me on each of those pool lengths, regardless of how well or how poorly I am swimming.
Of course, I don’t say the nembutsu out loud. Since I breath through my mouth when swimming, that would not be a particularly good idea – and I might get some strange looks from my fellow swimmers if I did. I say the nembutsu in my head. In my head, I chant in time, two syllables to each freestyle stroke: Ami – tabha / Ami – tabha / Ami -tabha / Ami -tabha. I have no need to count the lengths as my smartwatch does that for me; I can simply focus on the experience of swimming and saying the nembutsu.
At first, I worried that this was maybe a bit disrespectful to Amida. Am I just using the nembutsu like a metronome to keep a constant rhythm in my stroke? Well yes, I suppose there is an element of that, but for me it is so much more. I really feel as if Amida Buddha is with me on my pool journey, just as on my life journey. As I pause for a drink of water half-way through my session, I still like to imagine that Amida is in the lifeguard’s perch, watching over me as I swim, not criticising or judging but simply being there as a light of love. Amida’s light is always with me, and never more so than when swimming the nembutsu.
Namo Amida Bu.