Diving Archives -

The Paths We Tread

By Simone Lipscomb | August 20, 2019

During this long Threshold experience there has been much time to reflect on this juncture in life. For over two years there has been intense consideration but in reality the question Why am I here? has echoed for many years.

I have followed my heart, followed the guidance I feel, and it led me on a fascinating journey. It started while in high school working at a local state park in environmental education which progressed to attending college and majoring in Outdoor Recreation Administration which led to seven years working as a state park naturalist which led me to deeper discovery in life when I had an awakening that took me away from everything familiar at age twenty-five.

Because self-reflection was so useful for my own inner growth, I choose to attend graduate school majoring in Counseling which led me to work in the fields of addictions, children and adolescent therapy and family therapy. To be an effective therapist I kept going deeper which led me to massage and bodywork.

The deep healing I experienced as I went further into my depths was so profound I wanted to be able to offer that to others so that led me to massage school, Reiki master training, Polarity Therapy Training and all of that was so profound so I worked for ten years as a massage and bodywork therapist.

But the part of the path that was missing in my work was nature. I spent a lot of time in nature—hiking, cycling, paddling, diving—but my work was indoors and there wasn’t a connection with nature and healing in the work I offered people.

I always promised that if I ever had the financial support I would stop working indoors and dedicate my life to connecting people with nature. Then I inherited a large piece of land, sold it and was able to fulfill that promise.

I stopped ‘working’ for a living and started giving for living. I photographed beautiful places—both on land and underwater—met amazing creatures that allowed me entry into their realm and through these amazing experiences kept journals and wrote about the inner transformation that happened every time I submerged into underwater caves, made contact with humpback whales underwater, swam with dolphins pushing against me in their pod, witnessed lavender mountain sunrises, saw the birth of baby sea turtles, had manatees rest their heads on my shoulder…amazing experiences happened when I stepped out in faith to fulfill the promise of helping connect nature and humans.

During this time I spent a year documenting the BP Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill. I traveled from the mountains of North Carolina to the Gulf Coast each month and spent a week photographing and creating videos of seven beaches from Fort Morgan, Alabama to Ft. Pickens, Florida.

Several books were produced, mostly by my own financing, ranging from a child’s book on the Gulf Oil Spill, children’s books on sea turtles and manatees to short essays on profound interactions with ocean wildlife complete with photographs I took. One of my books—the most-sold one—was created by listening to the wisdom animals shared…Manatee Mindfulness and Other Wildlife Wisdom.

A lot has resulted from fulfilling that promise and now the time comes for another leap. Guidance has been to go deeper with Nature, to connect people with the wisdom teachings of wildlife. During one meditation I heard, You went out and connected with the animals and places, now you must teach what you learned to those willing to listen.

Not the most specific instructions but I did begin writing a course in self-study called, Deepening with Nature, which will eventually become an e-book people can download and use for their own deepening experiences. The other piece will be workshops and retreats designed to help people connect deeper with Nature and each other.

During this time of pause to let go of the old and clear out space for the new, ample time for reflection has put some interesting experiences in my path.

One has been delving into the last few years of Freddie Mercury’s musical career and while I respect and generally adore Freddie Mercury and his music, it is the final years of his writing and singing that have touched me deeply. His love of opera motivated him to follow his passion to write and perform duets with opera diva Monserrat Caballe.

His advancing illness eventually kept him from performing yet he was determined to go into the studio and record tracks that his band mates in Queen could finish after his death. He knew he would never hear the final music yet the songs were coming through him and he wanted to give them to the world.

The album the band released four years after his death contains some of the songs he left behind with his piano and voice. Other tracks were recorded by the other members of Queen and then mixed. It is some of the most moving music I’ve ever heard, especially knowing how it was created and with passion not only from Freddie but his friends who added their instruments and voices…and love.

Can you imagine the loyalty for your path to keep going, to keep sharing under such hardship? He inspires me every day to listen deeply to that which wants to be birthed through me.

Another recent experience that has been helpful is a book I just finished today by a cave diving instructor of mine, Jill Heinerth. Her new book, Into the Planet, is about her life as a cave diver—and very much worth reading. (I couldn’t put it down).

As I read her stories, her passion and vision was so evident. I heard myself asking, What is my vision? What is my passion? I love to cave dive but there is no way I would ever explore and go through the hardships required to do that sort of work. And yet, I have done deep exploring…within myself.

Too often we fail to give ourselves credit for the intense, challenging, courageous work we do when we make the commitment to grow. The awakening that happened when I was 25 years old was the first major leap inward. It was my introduction to ‘cave diving’ within the cave that is me. And even though I am a certified open water diver/instructor and certified cave diver and side-mount cave diver, the most incredible experiences from my life have been the ones where I unearth treasures buried deep within myself.

Usually experiences in nature have prompted the inner leaps and treasure hunts. Each outer leap of challenge such as learning to scuba dive, learning to cave dive, required mastery of myself. I’m not claiming to be a master in those areas but rather saying they compelled me to learn self-mastery.

It’s not so exciting or adrenaline-pumping to read about someone’s personal, challenging, courageous inner journey through their life but those journeys are just as important as the challenging experiences extreme explorers have that take them to the edge. Anyone that makes the commitment to grow faces many experiences that take them to the edge of what they know and their ability to navigate the dark, uncharted inner realm.

The outer experiences of learning to open-water dive and learning to cave dive compelled me inward, called me deeper as did experiences with humpback whales, manatees, dolphins, sea lions, mountains, streams….my outer ‘lite’ explorations pushed me to depths of connection that forever altered my life and hopefully, by sharing them, the lives of those reading about them or viewing my photographs.

We can stand in awe of what people accomplish in the fulfillment of their life purpose and what they do in the realm of exploration and be inspired by it, but let us not forget our own amazing capacity to take the inner journey that opens us to uncharted landscapes, challenges, battlefields, and heights and depths the soul can reach when given the opportunity to shine through the experience of being human.

I bow to all those brave humans who dare to dive into the depths of themselves, to the very edge of what they know, and press onward through darkness to discover their inner light. You….we…are the ultimate explorers.

—-

The album that has simply blown me away….Made in Heaven, released by Queen in 1995. When you think of Freddie writing the songs and recording the tracks….and then his band mates finishing it after his death to honor him….I am in awe. And the music is fantastic!

Sea of Cortez–Whale Sharks!

By Simone Lipscomb | August 2, 2015

Thursday and Friday

We moved a bit north to Isla Sal Si Puedes. One of the dive masters said it means ‘get out while you can.’ How comforting. I miss Capilla de la Mar. Leaving the remote island means we are headed back to civilization.

This mountain island where we anchor is less jagged with smoother, greenish slopes. The softness of the terrain is a nice change and beaches are here, which is also a difference from other islands we have seen.

The warm glow of the sun–orange and golden in hue–set the edge of advancing clouds on fire. The cerulean sky provides the canvas on which this masterpiece is composed. Where else but immersed in nature can one find such beauty while being kissed by the wind?

Chilly temperatures on the first dive but the past two days we had 86 degree water. On the first dive I cannot get my macro lens to focus on the giant jawfish so after watching them for a while I gently lift away and find a starfish crawling over the sand. I spend the next ten minutes hovering quietly, watching a starfish walk about four or five inches. It is perhaps the most relaxing experience of the trip.

On board, between dives, my mind wanders. Perhaps the most important experience on this journey has been to visit these unspoiled places where Spirit and Nature commune with very little human intervention. The experience has unleashed an amazing amount of energy within me. The challenge is to keep it moving and freed as I return to what we call civilization…although I think it’s far from civilized living.

I write a short, humorous story on the giant jawfish and a children’s poem on starfish and then do a couple more dives. We have a nice dinner and then we head for the bay where whale sharks live.

I awaken before dawn and am on the upper deck by 5am. I am not ready to see the lights of civilization even though this is a small village. The twinkling lights of Bahia de los Angeles in the darkness sadden me. The wildness fades and human habitation begins. One more day, I think.

This bay and the surrounding mountains are exquisitely beautiful. Faint orange and gold luminescence of the dawn brighten the sky behind steep, towering cliffs. Flat, calm water reflects the fiery warmth of solar hues.

Smoke lies heavy in the air and creates a hazy wall between our anchorage and the village. Oh, that there would always be that smoke-screen barrier between raw nature and human chaos.

Pelicans are feeding in the quiet bay, their wings softly shushing past before they dive again and again for breakfast.

The gathering light reflects on the rock face of the mountain across the bay and now it too glows with magnificence. Definition of the cracks and folds in its face become more pronounced as the light builds.

_TSL5323 — *Capilla de la Mar….my name for the island where I will live as a sea lion if given a chance.*

I have decided that if I have an opportunity to return, after this life, as an animal I will be a sea lion living on Capilla de la Mar. It’s beautiful, there is plenty of fish, I will have many companions and will see few humans.

Whale shark day. Our group begins as six, adds three briefly and then ends with four of us. We are the ones who pretended not to hear the dive masters as we floated after the dives and explored the edges of the rocky shore snorkeling…after handing our scuba gear up to the panga captain. We are the four that had to be begged to get out of the water after each dive. The ones who begged our mothers for just five more minutes of play time. It was the same with whale sharks.

Tons of fun and a great workout! Whales sharks appear to be moseying along, gently and slowly moving their tales back and forth. When the dive masters told us we would have to swim to keep up, we had absolutely no clue what that meant. Especially considering three of the four of us were pushing huge cameras through the water.

Whale sharks are awesomely cool and completely unconcerned with humans. Even when I was eye-to-eye with them or swimming just inches behind them, they paid absolutely no attention to me or the others. I was so closely behind one twice that if she had paused, I would have been slapped in the face with her gigantic tale…providing I couldn’t slam on my ‘brakes.’ There isn’t a connection like sea lions or whales or dolphins make with snorkelers or divers when there is recognition and sometimes interaction. These sharks, these huge plankton feeders, basically ignore us.

So close with my fisheye I can't get the entire animal in frame...but the details pop! — *So close with my fisheye I can’t get the entire animal in frame…but the details pop!*

“Swim hard!” is the motto of the day. At one point a few of us stay in the water over an hour watching whale sharks come and go, mobula rays leap from the water in synchronized efforts and generally frolicking in the peaceful bay. I can’t imagine a better way to end the trip. Six hours of non-stop fun.

We kid our dive master later about our asking to be in his group on whale shark day. He knew he would be out with us as long as we could possibly play.

Another night spent motoring back to Rocky Point, Mexico and we arrive at sunrise. Within five hours I am experiencing my first indoor shower in a week and am shaving the saguaro cactus forest from my legs. Soap, shampoo, shaving….seems far too civilized for my raw, wild self. Yet as a human being, I am rejoining the insanity of what we call civilization….kicking and screaming all the way. Can I just have five more minutes? Please!!

By Simone Lipscomb | August 1, 2015

Wednesday…I think

It’s a good adventure when the date is lost and the day of the week is unknown.

Another day at Isla San Pedro Martir. The first dive was in a little cavern swim through. We begin by going under and into the massive rock that makes this mountain island. Seven o’clock in the morning and we’re going into and under rock…a delightful way to begin the day.

Starfish and moray eel — *starfish and moray eel*

At the end of the dive I ascend to a shallow depth and hover. A beautiful, small moray eel is hiding deep in a rocky crevice. I mentally tell him I am not going to harass or hurt him. Then tears come. It feels as if the entire planet is hiding from the continued assaults on It from humans. I feel very sad that two-legged’s can be so aggressive and domineering.

Out of the blue, the person that continues to chase animals comes by chasing another turtle. I scream at him underwater. Another diver sees me and nods in agreement.

Then another encounter with a turtle and a nice dive buddy videoing her. We have a very pleasant and peaceful encounter with the turtle and each other. Complete contrast within a few minutes. I feel such mixed emotions.

It’s difficult for me to stay peaceful and compassionate when people harass animals.

On the way back to the boat, Juleo takes our panga into a perfectly formed arch. It reminds me of a chapel by appearance and energy. I think it’s a chapel for the Great Sea Mother. It feels like a central point of light for the entire region. I need the sweet energy of the chapel after feeling so upset by the aggressive diver.

I rename the island Capilla de la Mar…Chapel of the Sea. It seems to fit better than being named after some saint who came along long after the original occupant of the island…the Great Sea Goddess.

One the second dive I feel the calming influence of Cappilla de la Mar and the magnificent feminine energy presence. I hear, “Yes, child. Even here you are mine. Your love translates to all waters of the planet.”

A bull sea lion comes down to check us out but doesn’t bark. He just cruises us.

While diving I ponder the idea of aggressive, argumentative, arrogant people and I cringe. So opposite of what I want to attract to my life. The sea lions teach me about joy and I know there is choice about what kind of people I bring into my life.

Toward the end of the second dive a tiny, tiny black and yellow puffer fish comes up to mask and hovers at my nose. The precious little creature doesn’t appear upset but simply stays at my nose and makes eye contact. Such a brave, little soul. An explorer of her kind.

Dive deck...blue-footed booby took a walk through — *dive deck…blue-footed booby took a walk through*

After lunch I’m walking along the starboard side of the boat and encounter a blue-footed booby walking toward me. He can’t spring up over the rail to fly so I run around, through the center of the boat, and come out another door behind him. I gently coax him to the stern of the boat, through the dive deck, down the stairs to the platform where he watches the pangas floating behind the boat. He hesitates, a wave washes over his feet, and then he takes off. No camera. Nobody to even witness this amazing encounter so it’s just the booby’s word and mine. We have a nice conversation, although it was rather one-sided.

After the third dive and dinner, friends are diving and I once-again ride along to watch the moonrise over the sea. The brilliant orange and turquoise hues of the sunset are fading as we motor the short distance in the panga.

The almost half moon light casts a beautiful, soft, white glow on the huge, white cliffs. It seems as if the entire island is alive with white light.

So quiet and peaceful it is on the water, in the shadow of the moon cliff. I feel so at home here. The thought of civilization makes me break out in anxious waves of dread. Civilization is so over-rated.

I manage to stay in the present moment and forget being anywhere but here, in the shadow of a glowing, ragged mountain rising up from the sea.

The moonlight grows in intensity and as we drift, I glance up and see an enormous shadow on the mountain created by the cliff face and moonlight. It appears to be a woman standing with her arms outstretched facing the sea. We are near the Capilla de la Mar arch. In my mind she appears to have long, flowing hair of seaweed with a leather band holding it at her forehead. Her skirt is woven of feathers and dried strands of sea weed and bits of shells. Her tunic is woven of white shells and pearls. Her outstretched palms face the sea she she says, Come to me.

In a moment a female sea lion exhales close to the boat, comes up and touches the boat and stays with us for a while. The magical woman and the sea lion seem connected.

I sense the Great Mother as the giver of life, love and joy…the light that comes from unparalleled joy.

Phosphorescent jelly fish illuminate the surface of the black water. Their other-worldly green strands float in the cove, in the sea in wild geometries. They appear as beacons of Her light…her joy. My joy.

Diary of a Wild Heart–Part One

By Simone Lipscomb | June 4, 2012

“I feel overwhelmed with love and respect and compassion for all creatures of the sea. Tiny creatures, camouflaged to all who pass in haste, I stop and hover motionless awaiting the moment our eyes connect and we acknowledge the sacred light within each other.”

The above passage was taken from my journal after my first dive back on my “second” home–the home of my water heart–Bonaire. As I was transferring all the data into my dive log back home, I realized that first dive of the week was my 500th dive. I couldn’t think of a better place to celebrate and to connect with my favorite place to be–under water.

Over the next several days I’ll be posting parts and pieces of, Diary of a Wild Heart. Below find Part One.

As I was walking along the shore in front of the resort this morning I felt my heart open, my soul open, to the elements. Water, wind, earth, fire of the rising sun. In the whispers of the wind I heard that I have a choice each day–connect with my wild nature or not. My wildness, my instinctual self, is calling me. Hello! Bon jour! Wake up! Time to play with nature.

So on the first morning I drove south while the rest of the group went on boat dives. The wind got wilder, as did the waves, the further toward the southern tip of the island I traveled. Earth and wind and water are crazy there. That rough-in-your-face-and-blow-right-through-you wind howls there and so the carry-your-soul-away ocean wave action resides there as well.

I exited the truck and stepped onto the ironstone, ancient coral rock with incredibly sharp edges. The clink-clink of tumbling coral could be heard amid the rush of huge waves crashing onto shore. Such rugged beauty blasted me powerfully, completely. I breathed deeply, inhaling the salt smell I craved. From the center of my being I whispered, Thank you. I had come home to my wild heart.