I am in the deep.
My pointed flat, fingers pierce the waters edge and push down, deep and powerful into the murky below.
I could float here a while. But I try not to. Tensing to bring the other arm forward, stretching, elongated & graceful.
Currents change and some strokes are harder, require a deeper oar, but I am steady.
Bubbles billow up like glitter & gold and I’m enchanted, feeling the breath I take in my throat between strokes.
I am swimming.
Each day the water is new.
I float. I breathe.
I dig & claw with mud under my fingernails.
I look up at the sky.
I am free.
It’s okay, it’s alright, it’s okay. I’m okay again.
This is an honest post. I am just like you. I feel overwhelmed. I’m trying to be everything. I feel grateful, and selfish. I feel whole and in pieces. I feel. I can hold both joy and sorrow at the same time.
And so can you.
I getting older now. And the “supposed to” costume I wear is growing threadbare. My truth is showing a little and I’m compelled to share it here because maybe you need permission too.
It may get rocky.