I’ve been close to death only a handful of times.

The first happened when I was at the beach with my family. There was a hard riptide in the water that day, so I stayed close my family – playing and tackling incoming waves.

Then one strong wave hit, with another close behind – it threw me down, hauled me around, and swept me over the sand. Another wave rolled in and tumbled me in a new direction. I no longer knew which way was up.

There was no panic. Just a sudden, serene understanding that if I didn’t sort out which direction the sky was, and stop tumbling end over end, I would be in serious trouble.

I reached with a foot, seeking sand – and found it. My knees followed, and then my hands. Up I surged into the air, trying not to gasp. I didn’t want to get caught out, and get myself kicked out of the water. It worked. Nobody noticed – I went right back to tackling the next wave.