Episode 67: Star-Shaped

Today was the first day in 2 years that I've jumped into a pool. 

Damn. Haha, I know. UnbeLIEVAble. 

The rush of it. My knees bending, the jump. A brief moment when I'm suspended in the air and time has stopped. Hannah and Yen watching me from afar. Then gravity takes over and pulls me into the blue, chilly pool. 

I lift my knees to my chest. And blue is all I see as I hit the water. Then sinking, sinking. Bubbles of air surround me. A distant-sounding pshhhhhhh rings out all around. 

Two years may have passed, but my body remembers what it's like to sink and then magically be lifted up to the surface again. 

My body remembers everything.

How to kick slowly but confidently. A hand still squeezing my nose shut. My free arm pushing water out and down until I meet the surface. 

I search for breaths of air as I doggy paddle to the closest pool wall. Clinging to it and smiling, already pulling myself up to jump in all over again.

I remember San Antonio. Summer 2017. 4 years ago when I jumped into the 8 foot-deep end of a cloudy Holiday Inn pool. My sister and I holding hands as we hopped in, sending a wave to everyone else. Kids. Children. Everywhere.

"There's gotta be lots of pee in here," I said. 

"welp," Yen responded before donning her swimming goggles on and swimming underwater again.

I followed closely behind. 

Today, I floated on my back. I truly can't swim. Not well enough to travel distances in a pool without taking breaks haha. 

But well enough to float on my back, thanks to my father. 

I stretched out my limbs, like a star. My face up to the sky. I managed my breaths by holding lots of air in my chest before letting bits of it go, but not too much that my body would sink and sink. 

Slight flicks of my wrist to bring me to a homeostasis-worthy float. 

Agh. Every sound was muffled. The conversation Hannah and Yen were having. The rustle of the wind. The trees above me. 

I felt peacefully trapped in my own body. My own soul. 

All the tenseness I've felt trapped in my body, exiting and being caressed by the water.

I was hugged by the water. Pushed up by the water. Lifted.

Thank you buoyancy. Haha.

But really, no matter what happens. Even if I'm thrown into the deep end, I can trust myself. Trust my body to rise to the surface. Trust it to float. 

My body knows what to do to heal my mind. 

Because they're one. Body and mind and all. 

I love the water. Gosh, it's taught me so much. 

The best of times aren't when I'm struggling to stay afloat via doggy paddle, but when I let shit go. Do little. Face the sunny sky. Burn my cheeks off a bit. Muffle the noise and listen to the nothing.

Which doesn't make any sense either. Heck.

Just, okay, pure joy. 

Peaceful. 

So peaceful as I floated on my back, I was full.

I felt full. Whole.

 

I could float forever and ever. 

Let me, gods. Let me let shit go and float forever.