Jonna doesn’t act proud. As she walks on the frosty lawn of Hampstead Heath, a large park in north London where the Kenwood women’s swimming pool is located, she can see behind the scrawny trees the colorful caps of women swimming in the icy water, at amid ducks and cormorants spreading their wings in the sun. Jonna knows that soon, she will be one of them. It’s a first for the young woman, who came with her friend Kezia, a fan of wild swimming.
Swimming in the sea, lakes and rivers, in summer and winter, is such a phenomenon across the Channel that it has earned its own expression: “wild swimming”.. Even if not everyone necessarily jumps into the water when it is icy, there are just over 7.5 million wild swimmers in the United Kingdom and bring together a united community, with its own networks and specialized media. As they say here, swimming in open water « is a thing » (it’s a real phenomenon).
Spiritual sounds
Kezia is a regular at the Kenwood pool, a small haven of calm and sorority on the heights of London. She remembers her first bath, in winter. It was three years ago, the thirty-year-old had just lost her mother. She describes the bite of the cold, the thousands of needles digging into her skin, the ragged breathing. Then the feeling of euphoria coming out of the water, the dopamine peak, and the pride. “It helped me a lot in my grieving process, she explains while undressing. In the water, with the cold and the pain, I have to concentrate only on the present moment, my breathing… And everything becomes clearer in my head. » Today, ice baths are when she feels most connected to her mother: “When I come out of the water, I’m so proud of my body, of my mental and physical strength… Of what my mother passed on to me, in fact. »
If the mental health benefits of cold water baths are well known, Ian Bradley sees something else. From the east coast of Scotland where he lives and where wild swimming is very popular, the theologian and pastor of the Church of Scotland cannot help but, listening to the testimonies of swimmers like that of Kezia, perceive spiritual consonances there. “Some say that they feel very small in the face of something bigger than themselves, that they feel connected to the immensity of the ocean, that in the water their soul is finally free… A speech that I would describe it as spiritual, even if they are not necessarily aware of it. »
In the seas, rivers or lakes, but also on the shore with other swimmers, wild swimming reconnects them to a community as well as to a form of transcendence. For some, this immersive experience opens them to a sacred dimension of existence that they may have missed, and sometimes fuels a spiritual quest that they did not always suspect.
When he heard these testimonies, Ian Bradley, also author of a Spiritual history of water (Bloomsbury), systematically thinks of the Christian mystics of the Middle Ages. “The metaphor of water or the ocean was widely used at the time to talk about God,” he analyzes, quoting John Damascene who, in the 8th century, compared the divine to a “immense sea of limitless and infinite essence”, or mystics speaking of death as a passage to the ocean of God. “The image of the sea, of water, was widely used to represent the inexpressible nature of God. » Intrigued, the prolific researcher produced a conference, “Liquid faith: the experience of “wild swimmers””, highlighting the spiritual search of these swimmers.
Swimming as a pagan meditation
“I wouldn’t have put it like that on my own, but it’s true that there is a spiritual element to wild swimming, admits Kelly as she heads, in a swimsuit under her big coat, towards the Kenwood pool. When I swim, my brain shuts down, I’m in the present moment while feeling connected to everyone who has swum here before me. In the water, I am the equal of fish and duck! » Born into a Catholic family, Kelly now calls herself an atheist. But ever since she started swimming, the Londoner has celebrated the solstices, the cycle of nature. “There is a spirituality for every season. In winter, I feel transcended by the beauty of light. »
About sixty kilometers from London, at Lake Camberley in Surrey, the “Quay Swim” swimming spot is crowded this Saturday morning. It’s particularly cold: the water is 5 degrees, and the air is -1. Pete has just come out of the water. His hands are clinging to his coffee mug. Surrounded by women, the septuagenarian struggles to articulate as he trembles with the cold under his big anorak and his hat. “But I never feel so alive!” »
A little further on, Debbie, Joanna, Claire and Lisa share tea around the campfire. The four friends, now inseparable, all met through swimming. On the banks of this lake, they found a real community. “It’s our religion now!” “, laughs Lisa: celebration of the solstice, changes of season, collective swimming for the full moon…
“It taught me a lot to marvel at nature, note Joanna. When the sun rises, it has different shades of red, pink, purple… I never took the time to stop and notice it before. » Those who do not recognize themselves in any religious tradition consider swimming as a pagan meditation. “The body is shocked by the cold, so you have to concentrate on your breathing: inhale, exhale. And the problems of life remain on the bank. Anyway, in cold water, you can’t think about anything other than the present moment. »
“It’s our church, with its rituals”
Around the campfire, each swimmer has their story with water, and often their miracle: Alex is not afraid to say that water saved her from depression; Naomi, who has always struggled to love her body, “reborn” after each ice bath. “Every week, it is our church, with its rituals, relates the young woman. Come to reception, take a photo, enter the water, swim, go out, meet the others around the fire, talk. » Comparable in terms of dopamine discharge to taking heroin, leaving the ice bath is conducive to confidences.
Emma Simpson has heard a lot of life stories. This swimmer is getting ready to go out Breaking Waves (Icon Books, 2025), a book of interviews with women wild swimming enthusiasts around the world. Her own history with water is closely linked to mourning.
Five years ago, when she had just lost her brother in tragic circumstances, she felt inexplicably drawn to water. “After his death, it was as if the world had lost its colors. In the water, I found them. I felt like I was finally facing myself. » Raised in a Catholic family, Emma gradually moved away from religion. “But today, I believe in the afterlife. When I swim, I feel that we are all connected: men, women, animals, plants, the elements. »
Develop “liquid faith”
If Ian Bradley never tires of listening to the testimonies of swimmers, it is also because he is convinced that they have a lot to teach the Churches of England and Scotland, and Christians in general, the contemporary spiritual quest which continues to be expressed in secularized societies.
How to join them? Ian Bradley praises their sense of community as it disintegrates in parishes, but also their connection to the living. “The wild swimmers remind us of the cosmic aspect of Christ, who came not only for humanity, but for all of Creation. In the Gospels, Jesus interacts with the non-human world, the desert, the water, the birds, the grass of the fields… There is an environmental dimension in our faith that Pope Francis highlighted in Praised yesbut which we tend to neglect. »
For Ian Bradley, the calculation is simple: the number of practitioners in the Church of England is 3 million; there are 7.5 million wild swimmers, some of whom find a form of spirituality there. “Today we are in a post-Christian era, but the spiritual feeling is still very present,” he observes. Among wild swimmers, he is sure, Christians have a role to play: to show that God is closer than they think.
To better respond to this search for spirituality, the theologian pleads for what he calls a « it was liquid ».“The Church has become rigid, centered on dogma, rites and authority, a very “solid” conception of faith. We must return to the Church as it was before Christianity became institutionalized: a movement, people on the road following Jesus. » He dreams of a liturgy that places greater emphasis on the washing of the feet, baptism by immersion, pilgrimages or outdoor worship, which are increasingly attracting in the United Kingdom a public traditionally unaccustomed to churches. Recently a good group of wild swimmers attended his conference. A swimmer came to see him at the end. She wanted to go back to church.
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Religious practice in the United Kingdom
46.5% of British people say they are Christians, mainly Anglicans, according to the last census published in 2022. The Northern Irish, largely Catholic, remain the most religious, with 79.7% of them declaring themselves Christian.
Membership of the Christian religion is, however, declining. In 2011, in the same census, 59.5% of Britons declared themselves Christian – 13 points more than ten years later. Conversely, people in the United Kingdom declaring themselves to have no religion increased from 25% in 2011 to 37% ten years later.
5% of Brits say they go to church – and the English bring down the statistics, with around 1.2% of weekly practitioners. Despite a significant drop in practice at the time of the health crisis, the Church of England announced in 2024 that the number of weekly churchgoers had reached pre-Covid levels.