Gilly McArthur on cold swimming: 'I’m at one with the water. I’m in this moment only, as life falls away'
For her debut book, climber, illustrator, meditator and nature advocate Gilly McArthur explores the benefits to both mind and body of cold swimming. This extract from The Beauty Of Cold details that moment when she feels at one with the icy water once again
Breathing out gently to break from my conscious reaction to the cold, I push against my instinct to breathe in. I focus on my hands, specifically the tips of my fingers moving through this inky water. I push the sharp ice from my path and, crucially, my neck as I swim toward the end of the channel I have formed. Today this water feels clean, smooth and silky. From my hundreds of swims like this I know it can often feel dense, prickly and heavy, but not today.
And just like that, I’m swimming, surrendering; the edges of myself and the water merge. I’m at one with the water. I’m in this moment only, as life falls away.
With intentional strokes, my whole body is moving, floating, over the loch. Now, with my breathing relaxed and widening my view, I look up at the places I climb in summer and to the edges of the channel where the solid ice meets the fluidity of water. I calm my mind further with one more exhale. There is no judgement here; judgement leads to creeping fear. It’s little more than a gentle awareness of my surroundings. Just sensations. Is this even cold? I’m aware I’m smiling a broad smile though, so I know this is wonderful, effortless and deeply grounding. I’m meant to be here. The buzzard agrees. In these conditions, I’m always learning. These cold-water experiences are about neither destination nor goal. I’m not here to measure times or temperatures. For now, this feels perfect.
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A few more strokes, and I’m really in my body and know it so well. Here comes the effect of the cold as my limbs feel a touch heavier. It begins under my biceps, then my toes start to feel a twinge right at the tips.
The water is not deep; I can stand up at any point, but always make sure I have plenty of time to get out if I need to. The shore is nearing, but I linger a moment longer, wanting to etch this feeling into my memory; an imprint of pure nowness. Finally, breaking the surface, I feel the warmth of the morning sun on my skin and the rush of exhilaration, and the ice clinks, sparkles and tinkles along in celebration.
I get dressed, under the watchful eye of a wee robin, who hops onto a small shard of ice left in my wake. She surfs the ripples and sings her little heart out right next to me.
My day is just beginning, and I know it’s going to be a good one.
Gilly McArthur: The Beauty Of Cold is out now published by Welbeck; main picture: Alexander Ward.