That pausing silence increases awareness of breath; you can almost hear yourself think. I enter that tranquil silenced sensation every time I dive. The moment my ears submerge, everything changes. My first shark dive changed not only my sensory perception of the world around me, but my perception of sharks entirely. The mysterious and elusive marine predator that the media has taught me to fear, suddenly had another side – one far more beautiful and mesmerising than I had thought imaginable. Through photography, I hope to capture that allure.

By day, I am an emergency room doctor. My mind is trained to problem solve, multitask, and calculate risk to make critical decisions in an environment of unyielding sensory overload. Though immensely rewarding, the challenges of emergency medicine bring with them emotional turbulence and burnout, exacerbated by the demands of inconsistent sleep-wake cycles. For healthcare workers like myself, 2020 brought the challenges of a new viral illness to our patients, which proved enigmatic both clinically and epidemiologically.

In medical residency, I was told meditation would help alleviate cognitive strain – “Just close your eyes and imagine yourself on a beach.” For me, that proved insufficient. I meditate with my eyes open, behind a dive mask, beneath the waves, with a myriad of sharks. If you have never experienced sharing a space with large marine animals, it must seem counterintuitive that shark diving calms me and resets my mind. Words and images merely skim the surface of the sensation.