Floating

Several years ago, I went on a trip to Florida that changed my life, and my enduring memory of the trip is laying in the Ocean, eyes closed, floating for what felt like hours every day. When I was a tween, my aunt and uncle took me to Brighton Beach, but I have no real memories of the place, just floating in the Atlantic, disregarding everything I had been told about the filthy water and just floating until I imagined myself miles away.

When I was pregnant, I was blessed to get to swim frequently, and the whole last trimester is defined in my memory by floating. I have never loved my body more than I did in that warm pool, Buddha belly triumphantly out, alone with Beta-now-Tavy.

Today, I took a nap that wasn't and lay on the bed, craving that sensation of floating with a piercing longing. I am reminded of the other kind of floating, the floating that carries me back to dark places I never want to traverse again. The hours I used to float pre-Tavy waiting for a lightening bolt of clarity to rouse me back to myself, back to the person I really am.

Now, I have a toddler who says "Open Door! Mama! Open Door! All Done Nap!" And I cease my bed floating and go off in search of my happy. I wonder why I feel so adrift right now, and why with drama swirling all around me, all I want to do is float. Really float. Arms out, buoyant, hours passing in minutes. The kind of floating that cleanses my soul instead of bringing in more soot.

I.

Just.

Want.

To.

Float.

Comments

[Katie B.]

Dang. (((Bethany)))

[Lucy]

Breathe. and let go. That's what floating is about. I love it too.

[Cheyenne Fitzpatrick]

Only 17 years to go...