The One in the Badi

photography by the author

The "Badi," as it is called in Basel, or also known as the "Gartenbad," the public swimming pool, is a revelation for me every summer: Civilisation is possible. Living in the present is possible. For a small entrance fee, there is egalitarian and appreciative and observing togetherness. There is a coexistence of people who would never voluntarily form a community elsewhere.

Ladies in burkinis are in the water. Granddads solve Sudokus on sun stretchers. Newcomers are learning to swim. French teenagers from the neighbouring St. Louis tease each other. People with six pack abs swim their laps - as do those with beer bellies. In swimwear, suddenly everyone is equal. Everyone is peaceful and at peace with each other. I come with or without my children. I swim a few laps. And then comes my daily act of courage. To expand my comfort zone, I jump from the 3-meter diving board.

Today, I feel particularly good. Generously, I let two girls go ahead. Then I climb the ladder myself. I stand on the front edge of the board. I take a deep breath. I hold my nose. I jump. I exhale through my mouth. I dive deep underwater. I am happy, even if my bikini shifts due to the force of water. As I come back up, I adjust my bikini and contemplate what is actually making me so content, apart from the exemplary civilisation inside and around the pool.

That is it. I am fully present, completely in this moment. Because often, even when diving from the tower, my thoughts are somewhere else. Sometimes, I am stuck in the past and scold myself: "You used to jump from the 5-meter diving board." Such a high board does not even exist in our closest Badi, but who cares? Nevertheless, this thought immediately ruins my 3-meter diving bliss. Sometimes, before and during the jump, I worry about the future: "What if I get water in my nose again?" Such „catastrophic“ thinking makes my breathing stop and immediately disrupts my bliss.

However, when I consciously and also unconsciously allow myself to simply be here and in the now, in this very moment, then the flow happens. I perceive my surroundings. I feel my feet on the swaying diving board. I jump. I intuitively know how to breathe. I am fully present and completely in the Badi element. No comparisons (that boy jumps better), no regrets (about supposedly higher jumps), no worries (about the wrong bikini), no judgment (of my own performance). I immerse myself fully in the Badi civilisation.

The Badi is my meditation cushion. Everybody observes, but no one judges. We all relax and flow together in our summer breeze,

The next day, I go back to the Badi. I feel like I am running late, even though it is a quiet Sunday. The water looks unattractive. I sit by the poolside. I read instead of swimming. I observe the others. I observe without goodwill. I judge. Her bikini is too small. Her breasts got too much surgery. I look at myself. My bikini is also too small, or I am one size too big. I stay at the Badi for the same amount of time as the previous day. The whole time, I feel restless. I constantly change my spot. I do not get even close to the diving board.

Only after I am back home I do remember. The Badi is my meditation cushion. Sometimes meditation feels like pure bliss. Sometimes, I just wish it was over. But still, it is worth coming back. I practice anew every day. The simple act of being and letting be. Like the civilised togetherness of the Badi.