Wet cravings

Masquerade, Optimism, Rewind No Comments

They planned it, and it was to be flawless. The three of them acted as if it’s the greatest boatride they’d ever have with me. And I believed every part of it—until we reached that spot of all crystal, dark-blue cold waters, a mirror dancing with a piercing, swirling, intoxicating peace of the bluest spectra. It was deep. And then they jumped out, the two of them, disturbing the already patternless sways and glides of the mirror’s dance. I struggled to keep balance, but the boat seemed to go against my will. The one left behind me, having a foot in the water, another in the now tyrannical boat, pushed me from the back and so silently dived into the un-peace that was the sea. When I was in it too, all hell broke loose.

But that’s how I learned to swim.

After accepting reassurance by the three of them, my three most adorable cousins, that I’m still part of the physical world, and after realizing that indeed I am living (barely, that time), I summoned everything left of the life in me and planned to kill them (as if the summoning didn’t use most of what’s left). But kids as we were, I ended up eating dinner with them and enjoying our popsicles after. All thoughts of spilt blood and broken necks forgotten.

But right now I so crave to swim. It’s a beautiful feeling to finally know that I’ve always loved swimming. I mean, I’ve always known I liked it (well after doing it the first time), but now I feel that it’s bigger, and I’m most drawn to it’s hugeness now more than ever to make me understand that I love it. It expands me somehow, yes, that’s what it does.

There’s this kind of freedom in swimming. When I swim I usually think of nothing. No, it’s not escapism, it’s resting, detaching the wires but knowing that I’ll soon have to attach them again. And in that moment of detachment, I regain optimal* connection with myself, and to my freedom.

originally uploaded by Djúli, www.flickr.com

But sometimes I still think of punishing my three cousins, not for making me learn how to swim by trying to kill me, but for making me want to stay in there as long as I can.


*Right now I wouldn’t say full connection—it’s too limiting. And unfair to my growth.

Hot Bath, Tub and Yoga

Masquerade No Comments

It’s empty for seconds, my head. The only thing I was aware of was the air getting in and out of me. My lungs seemed to embrace my heart and lazily caressed it. When I got out of the tub, my skin has discovered a new way of breathing; and I couldn’t feel my head. It was a mixture of relaxed bliss and something else that distorted my sense of balance for a while. It was both the feeling of the fresh nothingness from waking up, and the lure of that half-sensing moment before sleep.

It was the warm water, the silent post-midnight air, the tub that transformed itself into a waveless ocean, and the lotus position.

It was me.