Open Water Swim - Jan 13 2023

 

Open Water Swim

Jan 13 2023

I'm swimming far from shore.

Small waves

fill the world

beneath a sliver of sky

that comes and goes

in concert with my stroke.

First breakers

topped with flecks of foam.

Then roughly irregular waves

that diminish

the further out I go,

replaced

by a rhythmic rising and falling.

The wetsuit, black and glistening

keeps me tolerably warm,

its buoyancy

gives me confidence.

So I swim,

muscle memory carrying me along

so automatically

it feels almost effortless.

Or float

on my back

eyes closed,

gently rocking with the sea

as she breathes in and out.

I feel my head clear,

stream of thought

freely wandering.

This detachment

of body from mind

is almost ecstatic.

Even gravity no longer exists.

And the boundaries

that have kept me apart,

given me the distance

I always felt in need of,

are beginning to dissolve;

diluting

out into the ocean

shapeless, boneless

lost to myself.

That is, until the cold seeps in

a shoulder starts to bark,

a rogue wave

catches me off-guard

and I'm coughing violently,

a frisson of fear

washing over me

and clutching at my throat.

And what brilliant thoughts came to me,

what sudden clarity

in those heightened moments

of serene awareness

and unselfconsciousness?

Or was it my mind emptying,

relieved

of the inner voice

that incessantly fills my head?

The firehose of words

that try to make sense.

The futile chatter

circling endlessly back

on itself.