Story of a blind diver

Legally blind since birth, I had grown up accepting. I had been taught, perhaps rightfully so, to accept my limitations.

Life was full of limitations for everyone. Everyone needed to learn that there were things they couldn't do. That I had “sit out” most games the kids would play, should not upset me, or so I would be told.

Looking back on it, I'm amazed at the sage advice the adults in my life seemed to have for me, the same adults whom in other situations I'd observe experiencing their own bouts of insecurity and doubt. In fact, what I found to be the most difficult thing about growing up with a sight impairment was not the physical limitations.

It was the maturity one seemingly needed to acquire at such a young age, how one was supposed to think and act with an emotional sophistication rarely achieved by even the most sensitive adults.So, where does Copper Mountain and scuba diving fit into all this?

After 34 years of suppressing my fears, suppressing my desires to be “one of the doers,” and suppressing my acceptance of my limitations, I had had enough.

I sat down and wrote out a list of things I'd do before I was too old to do them, exciting things, daring things, things I wouldn't do because they were easy but because they were hard.

The uninitiated might wonder why I like to dive, wonder why I might want to hurl myself into a world that's even more foreign and fuzzy than the one I normally inhabit. I feel sorry for them.

Sorry because they'll never understand the thrill of buoyancy control, that sensation one feels as one inhales and exhales, rises and falls, in total harmony with the environment.

With the aid of a Aga Mask and the underwater radio, I quickly found myself easily navigating an entirely new world, some might say the birthplace of all life.

That, however, is not all.

More important than what I feel, how alive I am when, with the Aga Mask suctioned tightly to my face and the reassuring voice of my buddy in my ear, I'm in the water, is the joy I find in helping to bring the experience to others.

Scuba diving itself won't solve the world's problems. Yet I believe what Diveheart is doing with it has more potential to do so than all the gold one would wish to throw at them. Giving someone the adventure of a lifetime, showing someone who has been programmed to accept limitations, that he or she can “fly” elevates the spirit of us all.

Ironically for me, I never soared so high than when I plunged into the water. If you want to find me now, don't look for me on the sidelines watching the action. Just stick your head in the ocean and maybe you'll catch a glimpse of me flying.

Promise you'll join me.