I remember this day like it was yesterday:
Let me begin by saying
summer colds suck... The aching and crud kept me awake until 2 pm yesterday and
I usually get to sleep by 10 am. Yeurg, not good.
So back to Sunday and
swimming for a moment. I wasn't making a whole lot of progress. I
showed my teacher that I could now get my face into the water without him even
noticing, because it really didn't bother me much. I did this a couple of
times and then wasn't sure what to do next. The water was really cold,
and his only directive was to try to do more... more than what? Well,
more than I'd already done. I wasn't feeling it, and was starting to not
feel well, so after about an hour, we gave up and went to eat.
Anyway, today after
having several days to wonder about my lack of progress, I had a horrible dream
about Becca in the deep end, with someone trying to get her vest off. She
was scared, and calling for help. I was fighting my way over from the
shallow end, still walking through the water and telling the person to stop,
telling Becca to hang on, and relax, and try to stay up until I could get
there...
And a mocking voice
from nowhere told me that it didn't matter in this case how authoritative my
voice was. This time, my words had no power. She would sink,
because it was not within my power to TELL the water to hold her up. I
had to get to her, and because of where she was, I would have to swim, truly
swim.
And I couldn't. I was sinking, wading, watching her sink and
scream for help. I couldn't move, and it felt like the water was waiting
to swallow me... and her. I woke up screaming and scared the crap out of
my cat, Bandit. After crying for half an hour, I sent a frustrated text
to my teacher and vented about feeling like a failure. I told him about
the dream, and how Dad told me once that when you are trying to save someone,
panic has them trying to climb you like a tree, and you could both drown.
I'd also figured out that being in the water for me feels like the inside of a
seizure: you are falling, spinning, no control over where you are going,
nothing to hold you up. There will come a point when I must trust the
water to hold me up, and the last time I did that, the water said screw
you and let me fall...
He commented that to
him, there's no loss of control, it's just wet and he knows he can't quit
moving. He also said I don't have to trust the water to hold me up, just
move where I want in it and keep myself up. Right. Easy for him and
everyone else to say. The only thing that keeps me up in the pool is my
legs when I stand. I blew up, venting about how it looks so damn easy for
everyone else, just floating around, zipping through the water while the damn
water laughs at me and says, nah, I don't think so... no soup for you!
Sorry, Seinfeld reference. Boy am I sorry.
Finally, he sends me
this: Again, you talk about the water holding you or me up. It
doesn't. I make myself go up by moving. I push the water
down. I'm in control. The water just sits there and takes it.
The water is my bitch.
Cute, and I call to
tell him so, as I'm finally calmed down enough to talk. As I try to eat
dinner, he reminds me that it's easy for other people because they float.
He sinks, like me. But no one is a blank slate. It's hard for me to
forget every other teacher who has been stymied that I can't float... guys, you
all unintentionally lied to me. The water will NOT hold me up.
Actually, it was kindly pointed out to me that the water would probably love to
hold me up, but just can't because I'm too dense.
Therein lies the
problem. I have to get beyond wanting the water to do all the work.
I wonder, oddly enough (maybe this is the lack of sleep talking) if the water
is ever as frustrated as I am. It sees me coming and thinks "aw,
man, it's her again, I tried holding her up last time and it didn't work...
grr, well, I'll try again, maybe it'll work this time, I can always
hope"...
Water, we need to come
to an understanding. One, I know you're not out to get me. I
do. I just forget sometimes because you are big and scary, but I know you
don't mean to be. Two, I'm never going to float. Much as we both
hate this fact, it's true. We need to wipe our damn noses and get over
it. Three, I don't hate you, I just don't understand you. Someone
told me things about you once that weren't true, but just as if you were a
person, I want to find out the truth for myself. Four, I can't act scared
around Becca, but please forgive me if I still am...
This is still going to
take some time. I may have to go down some days when my teacher can't be
there, just to commune with the water, not an enemy, not a friend, but just an
element I must learn to move through. Hal Jordan again, through the heart
of the beast... as my one friend would say, I still don't know what feels to
feel.
It's late, or rather
early, and I feel like this is rambling, but I take away from this week a few
important things to remember:
I am a shark, not a
fish. If I don't keep moving, I will sink.
I might always be
afraid. Meh. That doesn't change that I have to do this
anyway.
I used to think bowling
was pointless and boring. Now I like it. Maybe, somehow, someday, I
will splash around swimming and actually think that pushing myself through
water, even underwater, might possibly somehow be... fun?
I can hope.
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