This is part 2 of my last letter, Cerulean Blues. click here to hear + read part 1
TAKING THE LEAP


Learning how to dive was nowhere near the top of my to-do list when I headed to Puerto Rico in 2020. Back then, scuba diving was just a long forgotten dream from my childhood. But returning to my father’s homeland to seek solace, and finding myself on the coast each morning got me curious about what existed beneath the surface. It wasn’t until my life turned upside down a month later that my dream of going underwater came tumbling forward…
I booked my first scuba diving lesson seven days after daddy’s legs stopped working. One moment we’re admiring a gorgeous sunset in Rincon beach, the next he’s experiencing numbing pain in his legs and can’t stand up. He was frozen in place on his motherland and there was nothing I could do to help him. By the time night fell he’d lost all sensation from the waist down, couldn’t feel a damn thing.
Witnessing my dad’s sudden disability threw life into harsh relief. Stunned in a whirlwind of emotions, my world as I knew it was disintegrating.
I decided soon after that I’d learn to dive in Puerto Rico. I needed to feel the belly of Earth before it too became unrecognizable.
I looked up the nearest diving academy and registered the night before the course started. I stayed up ‘til 2 am studying and I went to class at 9 am. I was determined to suck the marrow out of this God-given life.
Diving was the portal I chose to escape all I was grieving. It was my desperate attempt to hold onto my childhood joy in a world that was quickly becoming grim.
Finally submitting to water was a relief when so much of the last few years felt like treading water. Underwater the weight of my dad’s health crisis, career worries, climate change concern, and pandemic sadness faded away.
In diving, you’re literally thrust into the deep end and the colors seem gone but you just gotta stay patient to see the light. As you hit the water, you’re tasked with the art of remaining present as you slowly sink into the depths. It’s easy to surrender while floating in a body of water welcoming you in with open arms.
Forget to breathe on land and maybe you’ll feel tense. Forget to breathe while you diving and you’ll suffocate. So breathe. Just breathe.
To enjoy the ocean’s embrace you’ll need to achieve equilibrium by breathing in and out. Stay steady, stay present. Breathe in and rise a little, breathe out and sink a little. Give and take. Each inhale is a lifeline, an affirmation you are here, one buoyant, living, breathing, body held up by another body of infinite blue.
You’re floating in the womb of the earth. The ocean rocks you into a slow sway, a subtle lullaby you’ll miss if you’re not paying attention. It’s calm down here. Deep underwater, even the brightest of colors become dull. But the closer you lean in, the more each color comes alive. You begin to notice how the waves make kaleidoscopes of sun rays. It’s all feels so easy. Metallic fish shimmer beneath the brilliant light and cerulean water. The pace of sea life is an invitation to slow down and stay a while.
For a while diving was a sort of dream state for me. But now, two years in, my diving experience has since evolved to include more climate research, rather than just diving for pleasure. Back then I didn’t know about coral bleaching or how important the coral reef system is to our lives above water.
Oceans influence our weather patterns, regulate our oxygen, protect us from tsunamis, and provide food for us and animals alike.
The childlike wonder I experienced on my first dive is still present, but there’s an undeniable urgency there too - I know more now about the threat to our oceans and understand the pressure of this moment in history to act now.
Globally, our oceans are being forced into unprecedented heat levels that are changing the face of both wet and dry land as we know it. I know that sounds dramatic and perhaps super irrelevant to your everyday life, but it’s not.
DIVING IN 100 DEGREE WATERS









I’d never swam in an ocean that felt like hot bathwater until I photographed youth diving to collect data on coral and sea-life as part of Diving With A Purpose’s CARES program.
We hear a lot about being on the “frontlines” of the climate crisis, but it wasn’t until I actually felt the heat of a warming ocean on my skin that I truly understood what this phrase meant.
Between thunderstorms and oppressive heat, most days were a blur of sweat and salty water. With water temperatures reaching a mind boggling 104 degrees, jumping into the ocean didn’t provide much relief. We experienced the record-breaking heat that set off one of the largest coral bleaching event’s in recent history.
We literally saw mother nature change before our eyes.






While the bleaching of our coral ecosystems is devastating, I am invigorated by the intergenerational work I’ve had the opportunity to be a part of with DWP CARES. Being mentored by elder divers like Ernie Franklin, DWP founder Ken Stewart, and Kramer Wimberly has provided me and countless youth divers with access and opportunity to become part of the solution for our climate crisis.
Next month I’m headed to the Bay Islands of Honduras (my mother’s homeland) with DWP CARES to research the connection between coral restoration and Latinx cultural preservation.
I’m expecting this Hispanic Heritage month will be full of fruitful connections to home and the cultures that raised me. Showing up in my local and cultural communities to integrate climate action into my daily life feels right.
I hope reading this inspires you to find your way in the climate movement - be it messy, be it inconsistent, be it delayed, just find your way into taking climate action. The time is now, friends.
3 Awe ‘Tings
a short list of awe-inspiring content to help you through your week
📹 Eugenia Diaz beautifully depicts her vision of a great, grounded life
🎧 Into The Depths Tara Robert’s groundbreaking podcast with Nat Geo and DWP
🎧 The Daily episode on what’s happening in the FL Keys is a good summary