Bringing Lessons from the Water into Life

On healing, listening and learning to trust.

I’ve spent most of my life in water.

As a swimmer, a lifeguard, a scuba diver and eventually a freediver, I’ve explored what my body can do there. I’ve trained for competitions, broken records and helped hundreds of people discover what’s possible on a single breath.

But as I get older and wiser, my relationship with water is changing.

I’m learning to listen more closely. To notice how I arrive, what I’m carrying and where I can soften. Water has become a teacher whose lessons follow me home—to my family, my coaching and the moments when life takes an unexpected turn.

A few months ago those lessons became deeply personal.

An unexpected diagnosis

In June, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.

Even now, I feel a little uncomfortable writing those words. I feel healthy, strong and incredibly vibrant. A diagnosis is something I have experienced, but I don’t want it to become the way I see myself—or the first thing other people see in me.

There were appointments, questions and decisions to make. In August, I had a lumpectomy and sentinel four lymph nodes removed for testing. The results brought welcome news: clear margins and all sampled lymph nodes clear.

Alongside the medical process, something quieter was unfolding.

I was exploring how to meet this experience. How to listen to the people helping me while still hearing my own voice. How to care for my body with love. How to live fully while accepting that I couldn’t know everything about what comes next.

These were questions I recognised from the water.

You cannot fight the ocean, you cannot fight life

The ocean has given me plenty of opportunities to learn this lesson.

You can arrive with a plan, but the conditions have their own say. You need to observe, respond and sometimes change direction. There are days to explore and days to step back.

Freediving asks something similar. Preparation matters, but once a dive begins, you have to work with the body you have that day. Notice tension. Listen. Adapt.

I often tell my students: you train during training. During performance, you allow the performance to unfold. Afterwards, you reflect and learn.

Now I was bringing that same awareness into healing and I took it one step at a time.

There were things I could do: ask questions, seek advice, rest, accept help and take care of myself. There was also uncertainty I had to learn to live alongside.

Becoming quiet enough to listen

Meditation has become an important part of my days.

It gives me space to notice what is happening inside me before rushing to respond. Thoughts, emotions, sensations, expectations. Sometimes simply recognising them creates a little more room.

Three qualities keep returning to me: softness, awareness and confidence.

Softness in how I treat myself, especially when my body needs time.

Awareness of what I’m feeling, the stories I’m telling myself and the stories I choose to let in.

Confidence to ask questions and listen to my own voice.

I’m discovering that trusting myself can include uncertainty. I can feel grounded without having every answer. I can seek guidance and take time to understand what matters to me.

That is the place I want my decisions to come from.

Trusting my body through healing

After surgery, listening became very practical.

My body needed time to recover. There was swelling, a seroma and a longer pause from the ocean than I would have liked. Healing had its own pace.

For someone who loves moving, swimming and being in water, that was another opportunity to practise patience.

I know how to train towards a goal. This asked me to pay attention to smaller things: how I felt today, what was comfortable, when to rest.

After conversations with my doctors and careful consideration of the potential benefits and risks, I have decided not to proceed with other therapies. Quality of life and making decisions in accordance with my values are deeply important to me. I understand that uncertainty remains, and I haven’t made this decision lightly.

I’m sharing this because it is part of my story. Each of us has our own circumstances, questions and choices to work through.

My focus now is on healing and living. I feel grateful to be returning to the things that make me feel most like myself.

And, of course, that includes the ocean.

Returning to my liquid friend

Going for a swim at Sapphire Beach, north coast NSW, Australia

Eight weeks after surgery, I’m back in full swimming and freediving mode. The water has welcomed me back with open arms.

My first swim back was at sunrise in the ocean baths. I kept my arm still, afraid of hurting the scar, grateful just to feel the water around me again.

On my second swim, I could move my arm. I slipped underwater and felt incredible. The cold ocean, the freedom of movement—the simple joy of being back.

Since then, I’ve returned to my usual ocean swims and freediving with clients. I’ve found my way back by listening to my body, giving myself room to discover what felt possible each day.

And then there’s a favourite ritual with a good friend: “Cheeky Tuesdays.” Morning meditation and a naked swim at a quiet, remote beach. Stillness, friendship and a little cheekiness. There is room for all of it.

I sometimes call the ocean my favourite therapy. It is where I feel connected—to my body, to nature and to the life happening around me.

Freediving for Life

You don’t have to be a freediver to recognise these questions.

How do we care for the people we love while also caring for ourselves? How do we respond when our plans change? How do we hear ourselves beneath the noise?

I’m still exploring all of this.

Water has taught me to open my heart, listen, soften and trust. These lessons shape how I coach, raise my children and meet the unexpected. This chapter has given me another place to practise them.

This is what “Freediving for Life” means to me: taking what we learn in the water into the way we live.

There is healing happening in my body, and there is discovery happening within me.

And there is so much life to enjoy along the way.

Where in your life could you give yourself a little more room to listen?

Michaela x