So there I was on our dive boat with my two workmates nicknamed Chewbaka and E.T.
Chewbaka was named after the wookie in star wars, after a few beer he's simply the Wookie.
I think it would be a great comic book; super girl meets the Sasquatch The creation of super wookie.
Although T has a quite a few nicknames it was I who named him E.T. One day we were sitting on the boat sunbathing I mean working. I was looking down at my feet and for some reason out came, "Man, I have ugly feet", him being a good friend responded with "there not so bad check out mine." Mistakenly, I looked then stared I was staring at toe's that looked like mini E.T's, right there I started cracking up "I am never talking about my feet again", I giggled. His face went red and shouted at least I'm not a hobbit. "True", I said. "Hey, E.T. Go Home. After that the crew became the wookie, E.T. and the Hobbit, sitcom I think so.
So there we were at work on the work boat at least. We were sitting in the straight. Yes, we were getting paid. No, I don't remember which straight we were in; Oh yeah it's coming back to me. Do you know that straight, the one with water going through two pieces of land, that is covered in trees, mountains in the distance, whirlpools everywhere, waves crashing, logs floating, salmon swimming, dolphins surfing, killer whales eating, sea lions on the rocks, bears on the beach and eagles in the trees. Do you know that straight? No, well that one.
There we were with our long lines out beer in hand fishing for halibut. Well, I had a beer in hand and a video camera in the other. They were fishing I was taping. That day was a little different for us. Apparently we had lost a bet. I didn't even know we had a bet going, except at the gas dock we were handed four dresses and were told that we lost the bet. So, there we were fishing in dresses.
The wookie as captain got first pick; he chose the nice lime green one. ET grabbed the neon orange one, and yes that left me in the oh so pretty hot pink one. The fourth dress the violet one was raised as our flag.
So there I was video taping the whirlpools, the waves, the logs, the dolphins eating the salmon, the killer whales playing with a seal, the sea lions baking from the rock, the scavenger bear on the beach , the eagles swooping and my two friends looking oh so pretty fishing in dresses.
Do you know that straight the one
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Monday, September 12, 2011
Defining My Demon Monkey
Here it comes, I feel it, that sensation, anxiousness, I am fighting for a breath, a chance to be happy, to be free.
ahhh, I had him right where I wanted him. Why did he have to join Toastmasters, I had him, He loved that anxious feeling, bouncing off the walls, he did not realize that he was procrastinating. His ego blew up others perceived him as arrogant. Sure, he read lots, however, it was of anxiousness. It was not calm and collective, he was not able to keep a positive state that is until...
whoa, where did those angry words come from, why is there this dark cloud hanging over me. What is that feeling that causes me to struggle, wait, did someone just talk through me, is that Guido I feel coming out to play.
For those who don't know, Guido, is my demon monkey, he's the procrastination side of me. The one who stops me from moving up, some would say he's my alter ego, I say he's just my ego that comes out to keep me off track...
That's enough out of you, this guy all he does is blame, he's the one who does not commit, and so what if I give him a little boost, so he can move forward. If it was not for me he'd sit and dwell on how he's not good enough. And do you know what he isn't. He won't succeed. So I give him a little euphoria to keep him happy. What's the harm in that I ask you?
Will you listen to him, telling me I am not capable, commitment, that may be an issue, maybe it's just that i cannot stand holding still. I am learning though, it's like Zig Ziglar sais "If you do the things you ought to do today; then there will be a day when you can do the things you want to do when you want to do them."
Do you know that feeling where you know what you have to do but things keep getting in your way, when your list of prioritize just keep getting bigger and never seem to go away. Are people around you telling you to focus on just one thing, but they all need to be done. That feeling of a weight on your shoulders that keeps you pinned down. Did you know your demon monkey causes that? that it's job. To keep our muse quiet so that we stay with what's familiar, so that we stay in our comfort zone.
I for one refuse to listen I am fighting back, as positively as possible, I will keep learning, I will keep moving forward...
Not if I have anything to do with it; are you not tired yet; go to bed. See he usually listens, he feels tired, he goes to bed, planning on finishing tomorrow. The key however is to start, to start each day because for one; tomorrow never comes and for two I have got a whole list of obstacles for him tomorrow.
My demon monkey Guido loves to apply pressure, pressure causes procrastination by providing distractions. One way to beat Guido here is to be focused, have a strong commitment a set of short, medium, and long term goals. When you are studying make sure you are centered this will ensure that you don't have to read or listen 100 times to get the message. Another way our demon monkey's get us; is when we enter the realm of negativity; this is there playground. This could be negative talk, arrogance, cynicism, or blaming others; Again negativity can mean different things to different people. A trick that I learned is to wear an elastic band when you have a negative thought, simply snap it, you will quickly learn to think only positive thoughts. If you find yourself saying I SHOULD simply change it to I WILL. I HAVE to switches too I CHOOSE too and yeah but! Well get rid of that one completely switch to Jeffrey Gitomer's patented YES! attitude. So this one has me all figured out; pretty soon there will be no more Guido, I am not ready for demon monkey heaven, any of you need a spare, no, I guess not. The problem isn't only you, it's the books, videos, internet, and it's cheap. Did you know for a few dollars in late one can get a great education at the public library. Oh well I still have one trick up my sleeve, and that's arrogance, I'll just wait till there's a few more dollars in his pocket and his head swells a bit. thank you.
ahhh, I had him right where I wanted him. Why did he have to join Toastmasters, I had him, He loved that anxious feeling, bouncing off the walls, he did not realize that he was procrastinating. His ego blew up others perceived him as arrogant. Sure, he read lots, however, it was of anxiousness. It was not calm and collective, he was not able to keep a positive state that is until...
whoa, where did those angry words come from, why is there this dark cloud hanging over me. What is that feeling that causes me to struggle, wait, did someone just talk through me, is that Guido I feel coming out to play.
For those who don't know, Guido, is my demon monkey, he's the procrastination side of me. The one who stops me from moving up, some would say he's my alter ego, I say he's just my ego that comes out to keep me off track...
That's enough out of you, this guy all he does is blame, he's the one who does not commit, and so what if I give him a little boost, so he can move forward. If it was not for me he'd sit and dwell on how he's not good enough. And do you know what he isn't. He won't succeed. So I give him a little euphoria to keep him happy. What's the harm in that I ask you?
Will you listen to him, telling me I am not capable, commitment, that may be an issue, maybe it's just that i cannot stand holding still. I am learning though, it's like Zig Ziglar sais "If you do the things you ought to do today; then there will be a day when you can do the things you want to do when you want to do them."
Do you know that feeling where you know what you have to do but things keep getting in your way, when your list of prioritize just keep getting bigger and never seem to go away. Are people around you telling you to focus on just one thing, but they all need to be done. That feeling of a weight on your shoulders that keeps you pinned down. Did you know your demon monkey causes that? that it's job. To keep our muse quiet so that we stay with what's familiar, so that we stay in our comfort zone.
I for one refuse to listen I am fighting back, as positively as possible, I will keep learning, I will keep moving forward...
Not if I have anything to do with it; are you not tired yet; go to bed. See he usually listens, he feels tired, he goes to bed, planning on finishing tomorrow. The key however is to start, to start each day because for one; tomorrow never comes and for two I have got a whole list of obstacles for him tomorrow.
My demon monkey Guido loves to apply pressure, pressure causes procrastination by providing distractions. One way to beat Guido here is to be focused, have a strong commitment a set of short, medium, and long term goals. When you are studying make sure you are centered this will ensure that you don't have to read or listen 100 times to get the message. Another way our demon monkey's get us; is when we enter the realm of negativity; this is there playground. This could be negative talk, arrogance, cynicism, or blaming others; Again negativity can mean different things to different people. A trick that I learned is to wear an elastic band when you have a negative thought, simply snap it, you will quickly learn to think only positive thoughts. If you find yourself saying I SHOULD simply change it to I WILL. I HAVE to switches too I CHOOSE too and yeah but! Well get rid of that one completely switch to Jeffrey Gitomer's patented YES! attitude. So this one has me all figured out; pretty soon there will be no more Guido, I am not ready for demon monkey heaven, any of you need a spare, no, I guess not. The problem isn't only you, it's the books, videos, internet, and it's cheap. Did you know for a few dollars in late one can get a great education at the public library. Oh well I still have one trick up my sleeve, and that's arrogance, I'll just wait till there's a few more dollars in his pocket and his head swells a bit. thank you.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Distractions, distractions 1st of the demon monkey speeches
There's a feeling I'm having, been having for awhile now; an emptyness in the stomach; a feeling like some big guy named Guido has a plastic bag over my head; and for some reason I just won't let go, I won't submit, must get this bag off my head;
I think I know what I must do, but there's always something else, something different, some big emergency that must be done right away; things like school, writing and exercise take a back seat.
Then I think about myjob as a commercial diver; everything has an order, everything has a place.
I have to show up at 7:30, not when I get around to it. How come I can't make my walks or school work like that. When I am at work I always have big plans for the evening, but, then I get home and my plans go out the windows, due to something that needs attending to right now.
When I am underwater, where my body is constantly under pressure, the only mental pressure is getting the job done right in a timely fashion, which, don't get me wrong can be pressure enough.
The morning starts at around 6:30 when I turn the coffee on and get dressed before heading off to work, It should start around 5 so I can go for a morning swim and have a good breakfast. But, alas, that would have me going to bed at a proper time, and if I did that, that would mean thaat I don't get distracted, that i don't give into the demands of others, now, where would that leave guido, what would he do if he wasen't holding that bag over my head. Wait, who cares about Guido.
After I pour my coffee and warm up the car, I am out the door by 7 am. I go for a nice thirty minute drive, listening to tunes and drinking coffee, getting pumped for the dive day ahead of me; I grab the tanks from the shack and I head to the boat.
At that time of the morning do I care about dire emergencys, i'm sorry but I don't. I am just trying to get to work on time, because if I get fired for being late then we would have a real emergency.
Why don't I use my mentality from the morning in my daily to do list? why do I allow myself to get distracted? why do I like this bond with Guido?
The three of us divers leave the dock on our fully loaded boat around quarter to eight, a quick stop at the gas dock and were gone, off to the farms. at this point I grab my book, do you know how many books you can go through in an hour each way, each day? quite a few I tell ya.
When we get to the farms it's time to set up gear, strip naked, and get in our dive underwear to put on our drysuits; diving in jeans and cotton t-shirts is just no fun.
Getting dressed for a dive is almost like meditating. First thing in setting up your gear (after you attach your pack, more on that in a bit.) Take your first stage and attach it to a piece on the tank valve called the yoke. Make sure your second stage regulator hangs off the right side ( your second stage you wonder; that's the breathing part) There are valves and other things on the left side so we have the second stage only on your right side to avoid interference.
Now, when I am putting my gear together and checking it; do I think about the other things that I could be doing. No, my gear and the task at hand is all that is important, then why is it when im at home I can't stay on one task? why is it that I am trying to conquer the world in twenty minutes? why do I have so much trouble just sitting there till the assignments done without letting my mind wander.
Once my gear is set up and my suit is on and zipped I throw the pack on; (not literally obviously, almost though) There is a system; weight belt first; back pack (which is the bcd, tank and regulator) that goes second do up all of the buckles third, then I grab my fins, mask, hood and I head over to the first four hole.
These salmon farms use a rectangular metal grid that has 12 pens. Each pen is referred to as 100 bys, meanng that each side of the square pen is 100 ft. There are thre four holes to a 12 pen farm.
My buddies will open up the first pen by pulling back the bird net (the bird net is a black net over top to keep the birds out.) while I don my hood and fins. A quick spit in the mask and I'm good to go. So I jump; avoiding the bird net into the cold green (sometimes black) water.
I can feel the cold water hit my face.
I see the salmon that surround me.
I feel the squeeze from the air expelling from my drysuit.
I descend, as I descend I'm checking that my regulator is breathing right, and I'm equalizing my ears fquently. I put a little air in my suit for comfort.
Now, I have got about 5 minutes to descend to the first corner swim three sides of the net and from the fourth corner I swim down to the hat ( which is a contraption that lies on the bottom of the pen that sucks up the dead fish and othr garbage that collects in the net it works via a air line that runs down the blue tube till it reaches the cone which is referred to as a china hat (hat for short)
Once everthing is clean it's time to head back up checking my air gauge and equalizing as I go, as well as watching my wrist computer so that I don't ascend too quickly.
I reach the surface, climbing the ladder, no time for chit chat the clock is ticking and I only have so much time to do as much as possible, they lower the next pen and I jump right in leaving them to close up the pen i had just finished.
At work my life is so routine that guido has ceased to follow me there, at work when I have an emptyness in my stomach I eat, but to get to this poit took perserverance, persistance and the mindset too not give up: Believe me when I first started diving; guido(representing pressure) was at work with me everyday.
Now, if only i could come up with some sort of system for my home life to avoid distractions!
Well what do you know I have sat in this chair till this was done, an look no more Guido! where did he go? Wait! don't call him I have got more to do and breathing freely feels kind of nice.
I think I know what I must do, but there's always something else, something different, some big emergency that must be done right away; things like school, writing and exercise take a back seat.
Then I think about myjob as a commercial diver; everything has an order, everything has a place.
I have to show up at 7:30, not when I get around to it. How come I can't make my walks or school work like that. When I am at work I always have big plans for the evening, but, then I get home and my plans go out the windows, due to something that needs attending to right now.
When I am underwater, where my body is constantly under pressure, the only mental pressure is getting the job done right in a timely fashion, which, don't get me wrong can be pressure enough.
The morning starts at around 6:30 when I turn the coffee on and get dressed before heading off to work, It should start around 5 so I can go for a morning swim and have a good breakfast. But, alas, that would have me going to bed at a proper time, and if I did that, that would mean thaat I don't get distracted, that i don't give into the demands of others, now, where would that leave guido, what would he do if he wasen't holding that bag over my head. Wait, who cares about Guido.
After I pour my coffee and warm up the car, I am out the door by 7 am. I go for a nice thirty minute drive, listening to tunes and drinking coffee, getting pumped for the dive day ahead of me; I grab the tanks from the shack and I head to the boat.
At that time of the morning do I care about dire emergencys, i'm sorry but I don't. I am just trying to get to work on time, because if I get fired for being late then we would have a real emergency.
Why don't I use my mentality from the morning in my daily to do list? why do I allow myself to get distracted? why do I like this bond with Guido?
The three of us divers leave the dock on our fully loaded boat around quarter to eight, a quick stop at the gas dock and were gone, off to the farms. at this point I grab my book, do you know how many books you can go through in an hour each way, each day? quite a few I tell ya.
When we get to the farms it's time to set up gear, strip naked, and get in our dive underwear to put on our drysuits; diving in jeans and cotton t-shirts is just no fun.
Getting dressed for a dive is almost like meditating. First thing in setting up your gear (after you attach your pack, more on that in a bit.) Take your first stage and attach it to a piece on the tank valve called the yoke. Make sure your second stage regulator hangs off the right side ( your second stage you wonder; that's the breathing part) There are valves and other things on the left side so we have the second stage only on your right side to avoid interference.
Now, when I am putting my gear together and checking it; do I think about the other things that I could be doing. No, my gear and the task at hand is all that is important, then why is it when im at home I can't stay on one task? why is it that I am trying to conquer the world in twenty minutes? why do I have so much trouble just sitting there till the assignments done without letting my mind wander.
Once my gear is set up and my suit is on and zipped I throw the pack on; (not literally obviously, almost though) There is a system; weight belt first; back pack (which is the bcd, tank and regulator) that goes second do up all of the buckles third, then I grab my fins, mask, hood and I head over to the first four hole.
These salmon farms use a rectangular metal grid that has 12 pens. Each pen is referred to as 100 bys, meanng that each side of the square pen is 100 ft. There are thre four holes to a 12 pen farm.
My buddies will open up the first pen by pulling back the bird net (the bird net is a black net over top to keep the birds out.) while I don my hood and fins. A quick spit in the mask and I'm good to go. So I jump; avoiding the bird net into the cold green (sometimes black) water.
I can feel the cold water hit my face.
I see the salmon that surround me.
I feel the squeeze from the air expelling from my drysuit.
I descend, as I descend I'm checking that my regulator is breathing right, and I'm equalizing my ears fquently. I put a little air in my suit for comfort.
Now, I have got about 5 minutes to descend to the first corner swim three sides of the net and from the fourth corner I swim down to the hat ( which is a contraption that lies on the bottom of the pen that sucks up the dead fish and othr garbage that collects in the net it works via a air line that runs down the blue tube till it reaches the cone which is referred to as a china hat (hat for short)
Once everthing is clean it's time to head back up checking my air gauge and equalizing as I go, as well as watching my wrist computer so that I don't ascend too quickly.
I reach the surface, climbing the ladder, no time for chit chat the clock is ticking and I only have so much time to do as much as possible, they lower the next pen and I jump right in leaving them to close up the pen i had just finished.
At work my life is so routine that guido has ceased to follow me there, at work when I have an emptyness in my stomach I eat, but to get to this poit took perserverance, persistance and the mindset too not give up: Believe me when I first started diving; guido(representing pressure) was at work with me everyday.
Now, if only i could come up with some sort of system for my home life to avoid distractions!
Well what do you know I have sat in this chair till this was done, an look no more Guido! where did he go? Wait! don't call him I have got more to do and breathing freely feels kind of nice.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
know your why
Where and when they are time and place. How, what, and why these are the phrases that create our future, that shape our destiny.
When we are young we are asked what we want to be. As we get older, when we tell people what it is that we are going to do! they ask us how? hopefully, you had that one figured out. You must of had some sort of vision or purpose to what you were doing.
What about your why? did you know yours?
For most of us that's easy, the money, I work for the money; money is my why for working.
No wonder money isn't everything is a common saying or the love of money is the root of all evil.
What is the love of money anyway? Money is a tool. Do you love the tool or what the tool accomplishes? Although I do know a few carpenters that sleep with there hammers and I always cuttle up with my S.C.U.B.A tanks. And of course money is not everything; There's aslo real estate, precious metals, jewels, stocks, cars, etc...
Money is a tool. Why do we aquire any tool. First, we have a need or a vision which serves as a purpose then we aquire the tool then action puts the tool to use.
When we do use money as our why; when do we stop? How much is enough? Carpenters have several different hammers, mechanics have all sorts of wrenches; even they have a limit on the tools needed.
I am not saying that you need to put a limit on the tools, hardly. I am asking you to expand your vision. If you want to be happy is simply being happy good enough, or do you like to spread the joy. The mechanic will run out of wrenches that he needs, luckily for him there is a whole range of tools for different jobs that he can learn to do.
Let us try something. Let us think about where we want to be at a certain time. What type of life do you want to live on a day to day? what is it that your creative self would like to accomplish? Don't be shy, think about it, believe it. We were put here in this wonderful place with these amazing super computers called brains. "That's all well and good but I don't know how" Zig ziglar has a saying; If your why is big enough then the how does not matter.
One can live life like Forest Gump; "life is like a box of chocolates, you never know which one your going to get." Or you can choose to go at life with vision and purpose, choosing which chocolate we would like to try, have a bite, take a taste, If it dosen't resonate with you toss it grab another.
Which way do you live, do you simply except what life gives you no matter how bad it tastes or do you have a plan of action, short and long term goals that keep you moving forward each day.
To quote the master zig Ziglar; "if you do the things you ought to do when you ought to do them, then there will be a day when you can do the things tha you want to do when you want to do them."
We all grow up having dreams. As we get older we start to see all of the opportunity around us. With no vision time starts to slip away from us, our direction, may get lost in the wind simply going about our day to day. Too quote many of the greats (including zig) "We do not lack time, we lack motivation, action, discipline, determination, and persistance."
Get out there, it's a big world, read, observe, socialize. Become a scientist use your life as the labratory. Is there something that you have always wanted to learn, to do or try - a place in particular that you want to travel, an idea that is burning in your brain, write it down, plan it have clear definite aim, just do it. (ps yes thats a bundle of quotes of various sources)
Do some soul searching, find out who you are, what level of success do you need to achieve? Which steps do you need to get there?
My why is simply this: I must keep pushing for those who can't, I am here becaue others pushed doors open for me. It is them that I strive for. The people that need help is why I won't surrender.
Where are you happy, be there. If your why is strong enough; how is irrelevant. What; that's up to you. When; look around you, your here. Experience your life, live in the moment, know your why.
When we are young we are asked what we want to be. As we get older, when we tell people what it is that we are going to do! they ask us how? hopefully, you had that one figured out. You must of had some sort of vision or purpose to what you were doing.
What about your why? did you know yours?
For most of us that's easy, the money, I work for the money; money is my why for working.
No wonder money isn't everything is a common saying or the love of money is the root of all evil.
What is the love of money anyway? Money is a tool. Do you love the tool or what the tool accomplishes? Although I do know a few carpenters that sleep with there hammers and I always cuttle up with my S.C.U.B.A tanks. And of course money is not everything; There's aslo real estate, precious metals, jewels, stocks, cars, etc...
Money is a tool. Why do we aquire any tool. First, we have a need or a vision which serves as a purpose then we aquire the tool then action puts the tool to use.
When we do use money as our why; when do we stop? How much is enough? Carpenters have several different hammers, mechanics have all sorts of wrenches; even they have a limit on the tools needed.
I am not saying that you need to put a limit on the tools, hardly. I am asking you to expand your vision. If you want to be happy is simply being happy good enough, or do you like to spread the joy. The mechanic will run out of wrenches that he needs, luckily for him there is a whole range of tools for different jobs that he can learn to do.
Let us try something. Let us think about where we want to be at a certain time. What type of life do you want to live on a day to day? what is it that your creative self would like to accomplish? Don't be shy, think about it, believe it. We were put here in this wonderful place with these amazing super computers called brains. "That's all well and good but I don't know how" Zig ziglar has a saying; If your why is big enough then the how does not matter.
One can live life like Forest Gump; "life is like a box of chocolates, you never know which one your going to get." Or you can choose to go at life with vision and purpose, choosing which chocolate we would like to try, have a bite, take a taste, If it dosen't resonate with you toss it grab another.
Which way do you live, do you simply except what life gives you no matter how bad it tastes or do you have a plan of action, short and long term goals that keep you moving forward each day.
To quote the master zig Ziglar; "if you do the things you ought to do when you ought to do them, then there will be a day when you can do the things tha you want to do when you want to do them."
We all grow up having dreams. As we get older we start to see all of the opportunity around us. With no vision time starts to slip away from us, our direction, may get lost in the wind simply going about our day to day. Too quote many of the greats (including zig) "We do not lack time, we lack motivation, action, discipline, determination, and persistance."
Get out there, it's a big world, read, observe, socialize. Become a scientist use your life as the labratory. Is there something that you have always wanted to learn, to do or try - a place in particular that you want to travel, an idea that is burning in your brain, write it down, plan it have clear definite aim, just do it. (ps yes thats a bundle of quotes of various sources)
Do some soul searching, find out who you are, what level of success do you need to achieve? Which steps do you need to get there?
My why is simply this: I must keep pushing for those who can't, I am here becaue others pushed doors open for me. It is them that I strive for. The people that need help is why I won't surrender.
Where are you happy, be there. If your why is strong enough; how is irrelevant. What; that's up to you. When; look around you, your here. Experience your life, live in the moment, know your why.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
a little life story
Today I would like to tell you a story. This story is not a fictional story, it is very real, it is not happy nor sad it just simply is. It is an ongoing story which I hope that will continue for a very long time. There may be different versions of this story, depending on who you ask, this is my version for it is my story. On September 18 1981 at 8:19 pm a 9lb boy was born , as you may have guessed, yes that boy was me, for my first few years we lived in crescent beach until my parents parted ways when I was three years old. My mother moved to the Vancouver in the trout lake area. My father moved into a trailer in white rock, I would spend weekends there. When I was 6 he moved to the west end of Vancouver where he rented a one bedroom apartment. It had a hot tub and a raquetball court, a little fenced in park,it had a small balcony with a little pansy garden, roses climbing the walls and an old wicker couch that I would often curl up on with warm blankets and hot chocolate to watch the boats go by. We had a great view of English bay, UBC, the aquatic center and Granville island; little did I know that this building and I would meet again 10 years later.
On weekends after soccer games my father would often take me to my friend Tyler's house. Tyler's parent's and my parents had known each other for years. They lived in a old Victorian style house close to Broadway and Fraser streets in the mount pleasant area. I went to hastings elementary school French emersion. No I don't speak French not well anyway, I was good when I was younger but I practised less the older I became. My young little mind was trying to fit in and keep it's body alive another day. The thought was I could learn French later, one day soon perhaps. My mother moved to Victoria when I was eight going on nine, my father rented a place in false creek and I moved in with him, not wanting to leave my friends at school we lived there for a year before moving back to my old familiar stomping grounds closer to school. My father grew up in the United States air force, he was a deserter during the Vietnam war or as we like to call him "a dirty hippy." After two years of running from the FBI my father, mother Tyler's dad and a school bus full of others made it to Canada. My father grew up with very little and he was determined to give his children more. He didn't smoke or drink, the extra's were not spent on lavish things or even nice clothes, they were spent on lessons for his only son, me.
Swimming, piano, percussion, equestrian lessons, and various tutors. We were by no means rich, he was considered working middle class. At the time Dad worked as a consultant for B.C.A.A. We had quite a few computers in a time when most family's didn't have one. We lived relativity cheap (besides all of the lessons) so when my piano instructor said that I needed a real piano dad was able to buy one. I said dad didn't purchase lavish things, there was this exception, instead of going from a keyboard to a good upright I went from a keyboard to a baby grand.
Now try explaining to your friends that your not different from them when you have oodles of electronics, tons of toys, and to top it off a baby grand; yeah, that didn't work. Between my lack of nice clothes, my really weird haircut, my sarcastic know all attitude and ears; let's face it on a windy day all I have to do is point my self in the right direction and I will get there in a hurry. To say I stuck out like a sore thumb would be a great underestimate, not to mention I have no natural muscle mass, for that reason I also tend to shake, to top all that off my two last names are Zinkus and Fowle. With all the insults they could have called me, Dumbo was top choice. Jeesh, talk about a lack of imagination. Needless to say I made it through elementary with only a few scrapes and bruises. My self esteem however was demolished.
Then came high school. I am not going to touch the two hellish years of grade eight and nine. The only good that came out of them is that they did not kill me, but they did make me stronger.
In grade 10 tired of watching his son get beat up and humiliated, my father took me to an underground boxing gym. As I walked in the large metal door after walking down a set of stairs all I could smell was the heavy musty odor of stale sweat. The sounds of people yelling, buzzers, punches smacking and ropes skipping filled my ears, and at that point in my life it was music to my ears. My coach and owner of this gym was a 6'4 Jamaican/Canadian with a very calm voice and a huge smile. After my fourth lesson he pulled me aside and told me that at first he didn't think I would be able to do much and that he was sure glad he was wrong.
By age 15 I could play the piano well, spoke a little French, loved to ride horses, struggled with percussion and rhythm, but now to top it all I could punch. My teachers did not know what to do with me they didn't want to have me expelled, well the principle didn't anyway. I would not have called myself a bully(some did) yes, I made mistakes, I was fighting back, trying to protect the few people around me. As my confidence grew so did the bruises around school.
One thing that I forgot to mention is that my dad lost his job just before I started high school. When I was in the middle of grade nine he took a job in the United States and I moved in to the big Victorian home with Tyler and his family. By this time Tyler had a little brother and sister too add to the chaos. Our dads built me a room in the basement which was about the size of a good walk in closet. We used a rigid shower curtain as a door; the real door was attached to the wall and was used to holdup my bed so I did not sleep on the basement floor. That so called room was located next to the deep freeze, washer and dryer and touched walls with their computer room, quiet it was not. I f only I had a lightening scarred forehead and they had named me harry. Between Dumbo, Dopey,and Potter I can almost smell the royalty check; cha ching. Alas, Potter came later, Dumbo and snow white came before me so no luck.
The best thing in that part of my life was my little American Eskimo dog named Rox. That dog was amazing he could jump six feet and there was no one more loyal. Rox once had his stomach ripped open fighting a pitbull three times his size that was about to attack Ty's mom. Man, I loved that dog. Rox used to cross the busiest streets in Vancouver. When Rox was five he died on one of the quietest streets in Victoria. Rox still stops by from time to time. About a year after he passed he knocked me over when I was working in a bakery at three in the morning carrying a full tray of fresh banana bread.
By spring time of grade ten while teachers were telling my friends to think about trades and unions, they told me that I would be in jail by 20 and dead by 25. One such teacher told me I may as well drop out because I would never pass grade 11 and I should not waste there (the teachers) time. At that moment I gave up.
The winter of 96'97 I had met a beautiful girl who I loved spending time with. With her came the reason to keep on going. On April 29 1998 a beautiful, healthy 7lb girl was born whom we named Ashley. She was the initial reason to not give up on this journey that we call life. Because of her I will not stop no matter what people say or which wall decides to block my path.
A final friendly point be careful not to dismiss people, especially troubled youth. Sometimes giving them hope, understanding, vision and wisdom will help lead that individual to a great future.
Oh yeah, that apartment building that I mentioned earlier, that was Ashley's first home.
On weekends after soccer games my father would often take me to my friend Tyler's house. Tyler's parent's and my parents had known each other for years. They lived in a old Victorian style house close to Broadway and Fraser streets in the mount pleasant area. I went to hastings elementary school French emersion. No I don't speak French not well anyway, I was good when I was younger but I practised less the older I became. My young little mind was trying to fit in and keep it's body alive another day. The thought was I could learn French later, one day soon perhaps. My mother moved to Victoria when I was eight going on nine, my father rented a place in false creek and I moved in with him, not wanting to leave my friends at school we lived there for a year before moving back to my old familiar stomping grounds closer to school. My father grew up in the United States air force, he was a deserter during the Vietnam war or as we like to call him "a dirty hippy." After two years of running from the FBI my father, mother Tyler's dad and a school bus full of others made it to Canada. My father grew up with very little and he was determined to give his children more. He didn't smoke or drink, the extra's were not spent on lavish things or even nice clothes, they were spent on lessons for his only son, me.
Swimming, piano, percussion, equestrian lessons, and various tutors. We were by no means rich, he was considered working middle class. At the time Dad worked as a consultant for B.C.A.A. We had quite a few computers in a time when most family's didn't have one. We lived relativity cheap (besides all of the lessons) so when my piano instructor said that I needed a real piano dad was able to buy one. I said dad didn't purchase lavish things, there was this exception, instead of going from a keyboard to a good upright I went from a keyboard to a baby grand.
Now try explaining to your friends that your not different from them when you have oodles of electronics, tons of toys, and to top it off a baby grand; yeah, that didn't work. Between my lack of nice clothes, my really weird haircut, my sarcastic know all attitude and ears; let's face it on a windy day all I have to do is point my self in the right direction and I will get there in a hurry. To say I stuck out like a sore thumb would be a great underestimate, not to mention I have no natural muscle mass, for that reason I also tend to shake, to top all that off my two last names are Zinkus and Fowle. With all the insults they could have called me, Dumbo was top choice. Jeesh, talk about a lack of imagination. Needless to say I made it through elementary with only a few scrapes and bruises. My self esteem however was demolished.
Then came high school. I am not going to touch the two hellish years of grade eight and nine. The only good that came out of them is that they did not kill me, but they did make me stronger.
In grade 10 tired of watching his son get beat up and humiliated, my father took me to an underground boxing gym. As I walked in the large metal door after walking down a set of stairs all I could smell was the heavy musty odor of stale sweat. The sounds of people yelling, buzzers, punches smacking and ropes skipping filled my ears, and at that point in my life it was music to my ears. My coach and owner of this gym was a 6'4 Jamaican/Canadian with a very calm voice and a huge smile. After my fourth lesson he pulled me aside and told me that at first he didn't think I would be able to do much and that he was sure glad he was wrong.
By age 15 I could play the piano well, spoke a little French, loved to ride horses, struggled with percussion and rhythm, but now to top it all I could punch. My teachers did not know what to do with me they didn't want to have me expelled, well the principle didn't anyway. I would not have called myself a bully(some did) yes, I made mistakes, I was fighting back, trying to protect the few people around me. As my confidence grew so did the bruises around school.
One thing that I forgot to mention is that my dad lost his job just before I started high school. When I was in the middle of grade nine he took a job in the United States and I moved in to the big Victorian home with Tyler and his family. By this time Tyler had a little brother and sister too add to the chaos. Our dads built me a room in the basement which was about the size of a good walk in closet. We used a rigid shower curtain as a door; the real door was attached to the wall and was used to holdup my bed so I did not sleep on the basement floor. That so called room was located next to the deep freeze, washer and dryer and touched walls with their computer room, quiet it was not. I f only I had a lightening scarred forehead and they had named me harry. Between Dumbo, Dopey,and Potter I can almost smell the royalty check; cha ching. Alas, Potter came later, Dumbo and snow white came before me so no luck.
The best thing in that part of my life was my little American Eskimo dog named Rox. That dog was amazing he could jump six feet and there was no one more loyal. Rox once had his stomach ripped open fighting a pitbull three times his size that was about to attack Ty's mom. Man, I loved that dog. Rox used to cross the busiest streets in Vancouver. When Rox was five he died on one of the quietest streets in Victoria. Rox still stops by from time to time. About a year after he passed he knocked me over when I was working in a bakery at three in the morning carrying a full tray of fresh banana bread.
By spring time of grade ten while teachers were telling my friends to think about trades and unions, they told me that I would be in jail by 20 and dead by 25. One such teacher told me I may as well drop out because I would never pass grade 11 and I should not waste there (the teachers) time. At that moment I gave up.
The winter of 96'97 I had met a beautiful girl who I loved spending time with. With her came the reason to keep on going. On April 29 1998 a beautiful, healthy 7lb girl was born whom we named Ashley. She was the initial reason to not give up on this journey that we call life. Because of her I will not stop no matter what people say or which wall decides to block my path.
A final friendly point be careful not to dismiss people, especially troubled youth. Sometimes giving them hope, understanding, vision and wisdom will help lead that individual to a great future.
Oh yeah, that apartment building that I mentioned earlier, that was Ashley's first home.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
friends
What is a friend. Is it someone who makes you laugh, are they people you meet on the weekends or at a bar. Are your co-workers your friends. How about the person serving you coffee every morning or your mechanic, why not , if they greet you by name if you chat when you see them. Are people in your everyday life not your friends, sure they are or at least they can be.
In my opinion you cant choose your friends (not your true friends anyway) you can choose who you spend your time with, you can choose who you talk to, you can even choose where you work and where you live. However you cannot chose who will be there when you are down, when the walls are closing in. Thats when your true friends shine when they show (usually in the nic of time) when they reach out there hand and show they will not let you go.
During those times you can really appreciate why friends are so important. You never know who they may be or where they will pop up from, only time will tell.
When it comes to people you meet keep an open heart and a open mind you never know where a great friend may be hiding.
In my opinion you cant choose your friends (not your true friends anyway) you can choose who you spend your time with, you can choose who you talk to, you can even choose where you work and where you live. However you cannot chose who will be there when you are down, when the walls are closing in. Thats when your true friends shine when they show (usually in the nic of time) when they reach out there hand and show they will not let you go.
During those times you can really appreciate why friends are so important. You never know who they may be or where they will pop up from, only time will tell.
When it comes to people you meet keep an open heart and a open mind you never know where a great friend may be hiding.
Monday, February 7, 2011
conquering my fears
When I was young I had three fears: water, heights, and horses. My father believed in facing fears, He had me in swimming lessons at a young age. I remember one particular time when I just woulnt get in the pool, that was the first night I went without dinner. I guess that I am more scared of going without dinner, after that night just try keeping me out of the water.
At 11 years of age he slowly coaxed me to try riding horses, by 12 yeayrs old I was riding english style weekly till the adolescent age of 15 when I quit all of my activities, besides boxing I guess you could say fighting was my fourth fear. The other fear; heights, well, he never made me deal with that one, he said that heights is a healthy fear, he would compare jumping out of a perfectly good airplane to wrestling crocodiles; just plain stupid.
With all of my fears, swimming to this day is my biggest rival. I am not really a fan of swimming pools, and I cannot do a straight forward roll to save my life. During the time my father took me to the riding stables for the first time, he also took me to a dive shop where they told me to come back when I was 12 and could do a forward roll ( at that time those were mandatory requirements) Back to the swimming pool I went, I mastered diving off the boards, but still could not do a forward roll, well after practise and lesson after lesson and still not getting anywhere with that bloody roll, I forgot about diving and swam only for fun. Another challenge that I had while swiming was that I would have trouble touching the bottom. I took deep shallow breaths and I had troubles letting all the air out of my lungs, still fearing the deep dark bottom of the pool.
When I turned 18 my father and I walked into the same shop from six years earlier and before I knew it I was signed up for a PADI open water S.C.U.B.A course. I will never forget that first time I used SCUBA in a pool, I was not prepared. I was so used to taking a deep breath while breathing that when it came time to put the breathing apparatus in my moulth I felt constantly air starved. That first lesson I went home in tears (well I was able to hold it in till I went in through the front door) I deffinitely did not think diving was for me. I told my dad that I did not think I could continue with this course, His response was try one more lesson then we will talk. I did and you know what; it didnt go so bad, I thought maybe I could finish the course. The third pool session however, I loved that sense of conquer, the feeling of being weightless, of being like a fish. Over that summer I finally finished and received my open water certificate by the time I turned 19.
For the next two years all I did besides work was dive, talk diving, dream diving, I quit boxing with one too many black eyes and tired of feeling punch drunk.
When I was 22 my father was working and living close to malibu, california. My life at that point was in need of some reconstructing, so when he asked if I wanted to live with him while I worked on SCUBA, I hit the road and went south. Even with all of my phobias and my need to procrastinate, I managed to pass my instructor exams with flying colours. Later however my fears came back and got the best of me. I knew that I wanted to be a great intructor, but I wasent convinced that I had enough actual diving experience or had what it takes, that little demon in the back of my head wouln't keep quiet.
When I turned 26 my wife, daughter, and I moved to campbell river so I could go to school to be a commercial diver, hoping that would give me the experience to feel truly confident. It did, for a minit. There we were in a new town, no money no friends, and that winter was really cold, none of that was good for the confidence, I received my unrestricted SCUBA, restricted surface supply and other tickets despite my lack of self confidence. I then went to work for a contract company that works for the fish farms in tofino, I just barely held on there for 10 months, my confidence up and down.
After leaving the Tofino situation, I bounced through three different dive jobs till I found a dive company that did a little of everything. I was placed on a boat called the Star Venture, it served as the pressure washing boat, this was where I worked for six months till they bounced me around to different jobs and different crews. That went on for another six months. After a year of working for that company I finally got a secure position with a crew and a work schedule that usually had me home at night, which was a very sweet gig which I stayed on for a year til work died down and then it was time to move on. With all of these experiences that I have dealt with, the many situations and different types of jobs, have greatly increased my confidence in my diving. I have come to the realization that there is one more fear that I must conquer before I can be a truly great instructor.
I first heard of toastmasters through Jeffrey Gitomers little book of series. It took me a few years to look into toastmasters. When I found out who to call it took me weeks of staring at the number before I picked up the phone. that demon in the back of my head that I mentioned earlier, hes getting quieter again for the moment, seems like every time I hold still he gets louder, when I knock those metaphorical walls down and begin to conquer my fears he goes away. Heres to knocking down those walls and never stop conquering your fears no matter how difficult or how many there are, one fear one step at a time.
At 11 years of age he slowly coaxed me to try riding horses, by 12 yeayrs old I was riding english style weekly till the adolescent age of 15 when I quit all of my activities, besides boxing I guess you could say fighting was my fourth fear. The other fear; heights, well, he never made me deal with that one, he said that heights is a healthy fear, he would compare jumping out of a perfectly good airplane to wrestling crocodiles; just plain stupid.
With all of my fears, swimming to this day is my biggest rival. I am not really a fan of swimming pools, and I cannot do a straight forward roll to save my life. During the time my father took me to the riding stables for the first time, he also took me to a dive shop where they told me to come back when I was 12 and could do a forward roll ( at that time those were mandatory requirements) Back to the swimming pool I went, I mastered diving off the boards, but still could not do a forward roll, well after practise and lesson after lesson and still not getting anywhere with that bloody roll, I forgot about diving and swam only for fun. Another challenge that I had while swiming was that I would have trouble touching the bottom. I took deep shallow breaths and I had troubles letting all the air out of my lungs, still fearing the deep dark bottom of the pool.
When I turned 18 my father and I walked into the same shop from six years earlier and before I knew it I was signed up for a PADI open water S.C.U.B.A course. I will never forget that first time I used SCUBA in a pool, I was not prepared. I was so used to taking a deep breath while breathing that when it came time to put the breathing apparatus in my moulth I felt constantly air starved. That first lesson I went home in tears (well I was able to hold it in till I went in through the front door) I deffinitely did not think diving was for me. I told my dad that I did not think I could continue with this course, His response was try one more lesson then we will talk. I did and you know what; it didnt go so bad, I thought maybe I could finish the course. The third pool session however, I loved that sense of conquer, the feeling of being weightless, of being like a fish. Over that summer I finally finished and received my open water certificate by the time I turned 19.
For the next two years all I did besides work was dive, talk diving, dream diving, I quit boxing with one too many black eyes and tired of feeling punch drunk.
When I was 22 my father was working and living close to malibu, california. My life at that point was in need of some reconstructing, so when he asked if I wanted to live with him while I worked on SCUBA, I hit the road and went south. Even with all of my phobias and my need to procrastinate, I managed to pass my instructor exams with flying colours. Later however my fears came back and got the best of me. I knew that I wanted to be a great intructor, but I wasent convinced that I had enough actual diving experience or had what it takes, that little demon in the back of my head wouln't keep quiet.
When I turned 26 my wife, daughter, and I moved to campbell river so I could go to school to be a commercial diver, hoping that would give me the experience to feel truly confident. It did, for a minit. There we were in a new town, no money no friends, and that winter was really cold, none of that was good for the confidence, I received my unrestricted SCUBA, restricted surface supply and other tickets despite my lack of self confidence. I then went to work for a contract company that works for the fish farms in tofino, I just barely held on there for 10 months, my confidence up and down.
After leaving the Tofino situation, I bounced through three different dive jobs till I found a dive company that did a little of everything. I was placed on a boat called the Star Venture, it served as the pressure washing boat, this was where I worked for six months till they bounced me around to different jobs and different crews. That went on for another six months. After a year of working for that company I finally got a secure position with a crew and a work schedule that usually had me home at night, which was a very sweet gig which I stayed on for a year til work died down and then it was time to move on. With all of these experiences that I have dealt with, the many situations and different types of jobs, have greatly increased my confidence in my diving. I have come to the realization that there is one more fear that I must conquer before I can be a truly great instructor.
I first heard of toastmasters through Jeffrey Gitomers little book of series. It took me a few years to look into toastmasters. When I found out who to call it took me weeks of staring at the number before I picked up the phone. that demon in the back of my head that I mentioned earlier, hes getting quieter again for the moment, seems like every time I hold still he gets louder, when I knock those metaphorical walls down and begin to conquer my fears he goes away. Heres to knocking down those walls and never stop conquering your fears no matter how difficult or how many there are, one fear one step at a time.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
more then one way to fly
When I am asked to explain diving, the best explanation I can come up with (besides wet and cold) is that diving is just like flying.
You know when you are about to board the plane! That antsi feeling about going somewhere different, mixed with the jitters about flying, even if your not scared of heights; you know what I'm talking about; you have just spent two hours in the airport getting yourself organized, figuring out where to go, being analyzed by people who can send you home if they wish. As you are boarding the plane you start running through a check list of all the things that you may have forgotten or things that you need to do. Neither of which you can do anything about at the moment.
As you take your seat and the cabin pressurises; you immediately feel the squeeze; similar too entering a crowded elevator.You grab what you need out of your bag eg.gum and a book.
As the plane goes down the runway your heartbeat quickens as it begins take off, you feel the bump de bump of the wheels going inside the plane, you may feel a little tense anticipating the uncomfortable rise of the plane and as quickly as it starts it stops the plane becomes horizontal.
You realize that you are tense, you breathe in deeply, you may take a drink or pinch your nose to clear your ears, and your good, you relax, get settled and enjoy at least a few minuites until the cramped sensation takes over and you just need to stretch, go for a walk, but you can't there is nowhere for you to go. There is only so much you can do for comfort.
Going diving is quite like flying in a plane.
At your dive destination there may be someone checking your certifications and health.
You will definitely have the jitters and a great anticipation instead of a grimace, you will have a big grin that stretches across your face. Instead of gum you may use a decongesant to make sure that you will be able to equalize, which just like on a plane you may have to do this often.
When you have arrived and your getting geared up; you may feel anxiety about forgetting something or not quite remember the order of which things go, just like a stewardess; buddys and guides are there to help.
As you near the waters edge your heart rate quickens; you and your buddy make your safety checks.
In diving you are the pilot, your buddy is co-pilot, in SCUBA divings case however you each have your own plane which each of you are responsible for.
You and your buddy step in to the water. In this scenario, it's cold, green and clear; pristine diving conditions. You look at your feet, viz (visibility) looks good, you smile at your buddy, he points out a family of seals sun bathing on the rocks. Your smile is now so big your hoping that you will be able to keep your regulator in your moulth.
The two of you dip your masks and submerge your heads to climatize your selves; you both lay back and don your fins. The two of you swim out to the guide and the rest of the group, you, are not in a rush, you are there for the experience, all of it.
As you and your buddy descend into the water; you are only concentrating on one thing, breathing slowly in and out. You know from your training that if you let too much air out you will sink like a rock to the bottom leaving very little time to equalize your pressure spots which result in a squeeze. If you hold too much air in; not only will you feel cramped, you will have trouble getting down. Slowly you descend the line; you check your depth gauge; your at 40 ft; you see the bottom about 10 ft below you, it slopes down from there. You and your buddy rotate your body so your heads are pointing down and you begin to swim down the slope.
One of the differences between diving and flying is that to start a dive you descend, and to finish you ascend, if one were to try that in a plane, either they wouln't get off the ground or the concequences would be dire.
In SCUBA diving how you descend and ascend makes you the pilot. If you simply drop like a rock to descend and then crawl along the bottom, and when ascending you climb up the line, you may agree with me on the feeling of boarding a plane, flying however perhaps not.
Once you have mastered your breathing and your air intake|outake of your suit and your buoancy control device (bcd) you will have mastered buoancy control.
Now you are the pilot and you can fly, you can soar with the manta rays and whale sharks, you can hover over a delicate coral reef; you and your group may decide to swim in a V formation like the canadian geese.
You are the pilot, you are in control, it takes time to get to that point, it takes practise.
We all start out as passengers with the anxiety and the cramped squeezes; when going up and down feels more like a freight elevator than flying, however with practise you will get there, you will be invited into the cockpit, you will be able to play with the gauges and do-hickeys. Soon enough you will be soaring into a completely different world and who knows maybe one day I will be your co-pilot. Happy flying
You know when you are about to board the plane! That antsi feeling about going somewhere different, mixed with the jitters about flying, even if your not scared of heights; you know what I'm talking about; you have just spent two hours in the airport getting yourself organized, figuring out where to go, being analyzed by people who can send you home if they wish. As you are boarding the plane you start running through a check list of all the things that you may have forgotten or things that you need to do. Neither of which you can do anything about at the moment.
As you take your seat and the cabin pressurises; you immediately feel the squeeze; similar too entering a crowded elevator.You grab what you need out of your bag eg.gum and a book.
As the plane goes down the runway your heartbeat quickens as it begins take off, you feel the bump de bump of the wheels going inside the plane, you may feel a little tense anticipating the uncomfortable rise of the plane and as quickly as it starts it stops the plane becomes horizontal.
You realize that you are tense, you breathe in deeply, you may take a drink or pinch your nose to clear your ears, and your good, you relax, get settled and enjoy at least a few minuites until the cramped sensation takes over and you just need to stretch, go for a walk, but you can't there is nowhere for you to go. There is only so much you can do for comfort.
Going diving is quite like flying in a plane.
At your dive destination there may be someone checking your certifications and health.
You will definitely have the jitters and a great anticipation instead of a grimace, you will have a big grin that stretches across your face. Instead of gum you may use a decongesant to make sure that you will be able to equalize, which just like on a plane you may have to do this often.
When you have arrived and your getting geared up; you may feel anxiety about forgetting something or not quite remember the order of which things go, just like a stewardess; buddys and guides are there to help.
As you near the waters edge your heart rate quickens; you and your buddy make your safety checks.
In diving you are the pilot, your buddy is co-pilot, in SCUBA divings case however you each have your own plane which each of you are responsible for.
You and your buddy step in to the water. In this scenario, it's cold, green and clear; pristine diving conditions. You look at your feet, viz (visibility) looks good, you smile at your buddy, he points out a family of seals sun bathing on the rocks. Your smile is now so big your hoping that you will be able to keep your regulator in your moulth.
The two of you dip your masks and submerge your heads to climatize your selves; you both lay back and don your fins. The two of you swim out to the guide and the rest of the group, you, are not in a rush, you are there for the experience, all of it.
As you and your buddy descend into the water; you are only concentrating on one thing, breathing slowly in and out. You know from your training that if you let too much air out you will sink like a rock to the bottom leaving very little time to equalize your pressure spots which result in a squeeze. If you hold too much air in; not only will you feel cramped, you will have trouble getting down. Slowly you descend the line; you check your depth gauge; your at 40 ft; you see the bottom about 10 ft below you, it slopes down from there. You and your buddy rotate your body so your heads are pointing down and you begin to swim down the slope.
One of the differences between diving and flying is that to start a dive you descend, and to finish you ascend, if one were to try that in a plane, either they wouln't get off the ground or the concequences would be dire.
In SCUBA diving how you descend and ascend makes you the pilot. If you simply drop like a rock to descend and then crawl along the bottom, and when ascending you climb up the line, you may agree with me on the feeling of boarding a plane, flying however perhaps not.
Once you have mastered your breathing and your air intake|outake of your suit and your buoancy control device (bcd) you will have mastered buoancy control.
Now you are the pilot and you can fly, you can soar with the manta rays and whale sharks, you can hover over a delicate coral reef; you and your group may decide to swim in a V formation like the canadian geese.
You are the pilot, you are in control, it takes time to get to that point, it takes practise.
We all start out as passengers with the anxiety and the cramped squeezes; when going up and down feels more like a freight elevator than flying, however with practise you will get there, you will be invited into the cockpit, you will be able to play with the gauges and do-hickeys. Soon enough you will be soaring into a completely different world and who knows maybe one day I will be your co-pilot. Happy flying
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