Finding my new religion in the blue water of Bondi

I have finally found a way to practice regular prayer and gratitude. I have also found a community of like-minded people to share this experience with. In these challenging times I have managed to appreciate and enjoy these moments of joy.

No, I am not talking about a new shul service, or a cult - but ocean swimming. I feel blessed to live near Bondi Beach in Sydney and I try to swim there several times a week, conditions permitting.

I am told I could swim before I could walk, which probably had something to do with my mother being a swimming teacher and having a pool in the backyard. I was on the swim team growing up and spent many hours following the black lines in various pools. I started swimming longer distances on my own at a variety of local beaches a few years ago, and enjoyed it. However, about two years ago I was lucky enough to find my community of fellow ocean swimmers.

We assemble just after sunrise to greet the day. On weekends it's a little later. Like in any good Jewish community there are lots of different “minyan” choices. There are faster and slower choices, shorter and longer distances, paid and free options.

I was fortunate to find a group that was a good fit for my speed and stamina from the beginning, but if you come down to Bondi in the morning you will see that you are spoiled for choice and there is literally something for everyone. Some days you can’t even get a parking spot at 6am.

My epicentre is Bondi but there are similar groups meeting regularly along the coast, and presumably around Australia - and the world.

When I start swimming there is the same sense of connection and calm that I have when singing a familiar Shabbat tune. The water surrounds me in a similar way that the community praying together does in the synagogue. It fills multiple senses of memory, sound, touch, smell, taste and of course, visual prompts too.

Unlike synagogue, the sea is filled with a plethora of natural beauty including rays, sharks, fish, sea grass and even dolphins. Swimming with these animals is a truly spiritual experience that makes you appreciate the magnificent nature around us and one’s relative insignificance in the broader world out there. It helps put one’s problems in perspective and it's hard not to leave the ocean smiling after an encounter with such exceptional beauty.

While some days are more humdrum with only sand below us, or even murky water (my least favourite), it's almost always still worth getting in the water. Not that I have been a daily minyan attendee for a very long time, but there is something in the ongoing practice of it that makes it worthwhile regardless of the specifics of the day.

Chagim (holidays) are replaced with adventure swims or official ocean swim races like the Bondi to Bronte race. It’s still swimming but with extras. Instead of Musaf or Hallel, it's a few extra kilometres from one beach to another or the opportunity to swim with different sea life.

Almost all swims end not with kiddush but with coffee. I swam with one group where free coffee is dispensed from thermoses sponsored by one of the local coffee shops. Coffee is a chance to bask in the beauty of the swim, as well as catch up with fellow swimmers and meet new people.

The chitchat and the opportunity to check in with others is a lovely way to round out the morning, taking what is an essentially isolated exercise (swimming) and making it into a group experience. I was struck by the similarities one morning as clusters of people chatted on the grass post-swim, greeting each other warmly and being introduced to new people.

Prayer can obviously be practiced in private but is enhanced by coming together with others and kiddush helps build social cohesion within the community, making synagogues more welcoming to regular congregants and visitors alike.

In my day-to-day life I work in the Jewish community, the majority of our friends are Jewish, our kids went to Jewish school, etc. However, among my ocean swimmers there are a few Jews, but mostly it's a motley crew of local Australians plus migrants from across the globe.

If I had met them in other circumstances, I might have thought I didn’t have much in common with them as there is a wide range of ages, occupations and personalities. Yet somehow our love for the ocean binds us together, not dissimilar to the connection one often has when meeting fellow Jews from across the world.

While I haven’t foregone synagogue attendance entirely, I do feel grateful to have both of these opportunities in my life to connect and take time to appreciate the world, whether in the ocean or on land.