Yesterday I cried for the water.

I bought French terry shorts at Costco. Ken asked me what for? 

“Because I need to know I will swim again soon, so I’m training myself to get ready, even if it’s only in my mind just now.” 

I realized how many years I’ve missed, either I couldn’t get to the pool, they closed it for covid, or I was healing from surgical incisions. Then as I traveled back in my memory, the lakes, rivers, oceans and pools came back to me, and the tears came too. 

The water is my escape, it’s the place between the heavy, solid every day and the spirit world. It’s where I float and glide, it’s where I become part of the bigger world, the fish, the rocks, the low-hanging trees, and the sand made of millions of sea shells. It’s the element that would heal me, or let me forget pain and anxiety.  The ocean heals, the lake and river balances, and pools let me swim with abandon knowing I won’t hit rocks or be swept out to sea. 

Soon. I tell myself. Soon I will swim on my back, watching the first rays inch up at the horizon, kicking up the wind and prompting the birds to fly, catching the breeze  first light brings.  

Won’t be long now….

The picture is one of my favorite places. Golden Bay New Zealand. It was a magical place, with no deep drop-offs, no dangerous currents, just beautiful water, and luscious golden sands.

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