I'm not returning to chase a personal record or a place on a podium. I'm returning to reconnect with something deeper, a relationship with the sea, with the silence it asks of us, and with the part of myself that's re-learning how to let go of the ego's need to make things happen.
I'm a freediver, but more than that, I'm someone who’s spent most of my life searching for the quiet beneath the noise.
Thirty years ago, the Red Sea made me a freediver. It's a body of water that keeps drawing me back, and one that has repeatedly brought me home to myself.
This year I came to Israel in the middle of a difficult family situation, against the backdrop of a heavy political environment. The sea became my sanctuary again, a place to reconnect with depth and with myself.
The sea strips away what isn't necessary. At depth there's nowhere to hide. You meet your thoughts in the silence, your expectations, the fears you carry, and the old stories about who you should be. It's confrontational, but always beautiful. Sometimes, when everything aligns, a dive can feel like crossing into another dimension, somewhere beyond form and thought, when you truly let go.
Sixteen years ago, I stepped back from international competition at -76m. Returning to this arena is humbling. My training is steadily approaching where I once was, but the World Championships are full of exceptional athletes, high expectations, and real pressure. I'm slowly understanding that none of that actually matters.
I've been training alongside Aharon Solomons. His approach is visionary, and as a coach, he holds to the discipline with commitment, safety, and a deep respect for the sea. The training asks mostly to keep astutely alert but relaxed under the effects of pressure, never to overthink or 'overdo' a technique, to observe the natural responses of the body and allow them to govern the moment until that's interrupted by the mind wanting to will something else.
My preparation on land is relaxed fascial stretching (stretching the body's connective tissue) and gentle mobility. I love qigong, a slow, breath-led practice of movement and energy work. I don't go to the gym. I've spent years working around whales in Baja, and I remind myself that even under real pressure, they never force their way through the sea.
The deeper work is internal. By building body-mind awareness, we reduce resistance rather than fight it, turning fear into curiosity so the mind stops clinging to habit. A carefully supervised programme of Residual Volume, or "empty lung," training is the basis of this. It asks the body to grow sensitive to pressure gradually and respectfully. When the body is conditioned patiently and the mind stops interfering, I believe the Mammalian Dive Response emerges more readily, without needing to be fought for under stress. When we return to full lung diving, we carry trust with us: the body recalls what it already knows, instead of being forced into performing.
I didn't choose to compete to prove or conquer anything. I chose because I want to show that connection matters more than force, and that age isn't a limitation. I'll turn 62 on the day of the World Championships, and that won't be a factor in how I dive. What matters is courage: the ability to surrender, to stay humble, to stay present under pressure, and to respect what the sea asks of you.
Whether I take the tag or turn before it, I want the dive to be an expression of acceptance, not a definition of who I am.
The closer the competition gets, the more I feel excitement tip into preoccupation. Some of that comes from old stories and conditioning that were never truly mine. Most of us have felt the pull to define ourselves by an outcome, to fear failure, or to hold tightly to an identity to feel like enough. The psychological work is as demanding as the physical. It asks for the courage to meet vulnerability without running from it and to loosen my grip on the result, not because the competition doesn't matter, but because clinging to it gets in the way of the freedom I'm actually diving for.
Winning, for me, means participating wholly. Showing up honestly, listening deeply, learning from my mistakes, forgiving everything, and continuing anyway. My logo is the Japanese Ensō: rough, broken, imperfect, painted in a single fluid stroke. It reminds me that mistakes aren't evidence of failure. They're part of becoming. I carry it with me on every dive.
A Deeper Connection
This isn't only about the competition. We're living through a time when the earth feels like it's cracking open, burning, drowning. Floods, fires, and environmental destruction feel like a reflection of something happening within us too: a loss of attention, a disruption of balance, a forgotten humility. The sea reminds me, every time, that we're not separate from nature.
When I arrive at training distracted, frustrated, or carrying something unresolved, I feel it in the water. The ocean is a mirror. It asks me to stay honest, quiet, and truthful with myself. I don't have answers about the consciousness of water, but I believe it invites us into a different kind of awareness, if we're still enough to listen.
Freediving will always be, for me, a practice of becoming quieter. It's why I train, how I teach and coach, and how I want to live. My hope is to enter the water without force, trusting the body and staying open to a deeper conversation with what's always been there.
The tag at the end of the line may call to me. I hope that when it does, I receive it like a gift, not a definition, a reward for staying in service of the connection that outweighs any number.
"I have perceived non-existence, the silence of the eternal dark and infinity."
Natalia Molchanova
If this resonates with you, I'd love your support in getting to the World Championships and in showing the freediving world that depth doesn't need to be forced. You can find out more, and support the journey, on my GoFundMe page:
https://www.gofundme.com/f/a-freediving-journey-meeting-the-ocean-from-the-heart
About Maria Teresa Solomons
Advocate for human potential and development through the wilderness experience. AIDA Freediving Instructor Trainer and Judge. Senior yoga and movement research instructor.
Instagram: @mt.solomons
Photo by Jason Murphy
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