It's not a surprise how much I love the water. I grew up in the mountains with a river a stone's throw away from my house and access to a high mountain lake. A beach of tiny pebbles, clear, cold, blue water and the occasional nip from a deer fly. The echo of loons in the morning and the swoop of small dark shapes at dusk, seemingly mute while bombarding the sky with ultrasound.
Diving in and swimming as far as I can with that single breath. My lungs bursting, swimming through the rays of light that reach the lake floor. Able to see the clouds above before I even reach air. One of my favorite swimming pastimes since I was a child. Who knew it was training?
I'm a strong swimmer, but I know what it's like to drown. Time and time again. I've been drowning for the past two months. The water is dark, and I kick and struggle. Lungs screaming for air, but not being able to reach the surface. I'm not even sure what direction the surface is at this point. So damned stubborn. Just one more kick, just one more arm stroke. I've done this so many times. It surely can't be that far away, can it?
2 comments:
(exhaling) You're back. Thank you for coming back.
And you have once again proven how beauty and art can come out of adversity and challenge.
I don't know about the "beauty and art" part, but thanks :) Last Thurs was the first time I was able to pull it together enough in over a month to go on-line. But I'm here, so that's improvement.
Thanks for checking in on me.
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