🌊 “Go Swimming” — Meeting God Isn’t Complicated, We Just Make It That Way

May 16, 2025 at 5:54 pm

Aisopose

“How can I meet God?”
“Go swimming.”

That’s it.

That was my answer to a man who asked me that question. Not out of sarcasm. Not out of oversimplification. But with the weight of lived experience, heartbreak, frustration, and finally — surrender.

Because the truth is this: We’re not here to prove God.
We’re here to prove we’re human.

The Fear of Swimming

When people told me “go swimming,” I didn’t realize what they were really saying.

It’s scary, swimming. Not just in water — but emotionally, spiritually, cosmically.

Swimming means letting go of control.
Of needing the answer first.
Of needing to know exactly what’s beneath the surface before we ever dip a toe.

It’s like standing on the edge of a pool, paralyzed by the need to understand how it feels before we jump in. We analyze it, dissect it, write about it, blog about it — and yet we never feel it.

That was me.
And that’s most of us.

Water as Memory, Water as Light, Water as God

We talk about water like it’s symbolic.
It’s not.

It’s real.
It’s ancient.
It’s alive.

Water holds memory — not just scientifically, but spiritually.
Light refracts through it. It reveals what’s hidden.
And in scripture, water always marked transformation.
Rebirth. Revelation. Baptism.

And if God is Light, and Light dances in water…
Then perhaps God is best understood through immersion.

Swimming isn’t a metaphor. It’s a spiritual act.
It’s your moment of surrender into the unknown, where the answers can finally rise up like breath after deep diving.

Getting Stuck in the Tree of Knowledge

I’ve lived under the Tree of Knowledge.
I know the branches.
I know the debates, the apologetics, the endless philosophical loops.
I even asked: “If God is real, who created Him?”
Again. Again. Again.

I kept waiting for the answer to arrive before I trusted.
But trust is what creates the answer.

That Tree, beautiful as it is, doesn’t save you.
It keeps you arguing in an escape room, pointing fingers at teammates instead of solving the puzzle together.

God isn’t a quiz.
He’s the escape route — the way out, and the way in.

The Apology That Broke Me

In that same conversation, something else happened.

The man said to me:

“I’m sorry I didn’t read your whole blog before messaging you.”

And I felt it — this odd, disconnected need to apologize for something no one asked forgiveness for.

That’s when it clicked.

Our brains do this.
They default to false inputs — habits, assumptions, conditioning.

“Be polite.”
“Don’t be rude.”
“Apologize, just in case.”

But where did that input come from?
Was it God? Was it Truth?
Or just another script learned from the noise?

I realized then: we don’t even know why we say or do most things.
That’s why God invites us to silence. To water. To stillness.
So we can begin to notice.

God Is Not Far Away — He’s in the Water

When the man asked, “How can I meet God?”
I could’ve quoted scripture.
I could’ve sent him lectures, podcasts, or linked him to debates.

Instead I said:

“Go swimming.”

That’s what it all points to anyway.

To trust.
To immersion.
To giving yourself over to the moment where thought dissolves and presence begins.

God as Division, Duality, and Game

“God is a Game of Division.”

Some will call that blasphemy. Others, liberation.

Because if you look closely, this “Game” we’re in is made up of opposing forces:
Right and wrong.
Male and female.
Self and other.
Heaven and earth.

Even the word “God” takes on many forms:

To some, He’s a King.
To others, a Shepherd.
To others, a woman seducing with siren songs.
To some, a schizophrenic split mind, torn between infinite versions of Himself.

None of those are wrong.

All of them are attempts to describe a being who contains all opposites, yet still waits with gentleness to see what we will do.

Maybe God wants to know, Can you swim through this without drowning in fear?

The Escape Room of Life

We’re stuck in a divine escape room.

And like any good puzzle, the answer is in plain sight — but your teammates keep yelling over each other. They cling to what they think they know. They’re afraid of being wrong. Afraid to admit they don’t know.

It’s hilarious.
And tragic.
And beautiful.

Because that’s the point.

God isn’t hiding from you.
He’s teaching you to find the exit through each other.
Through surrender.
Through the water.

This Isn’t a Metaphor Anymore

This is your invitation.

To let go of overthinking.
To stop being afraid.
To put down the need to know, and finally feel.

Go swimming.

Get lost in the Light.
Let the water remember who you are.
Let yourself remember God.

You already know Him.
You just forgot.
The water never forgets.