Just Keep Swimming

I think I found that place- the inner sanctuary of the mind, where none dare enter but me. I was lying in corpse pose today and imagined myself lying on a float, my hands extended out and into the water. The sun is shining, heat rays sliding over my skin in a lazy, penetrating caress. They glisten and sparkle as they catch the water, which is a pure aqua.

I was in the Hali Koa pool, which my family frequented in Hawaii when I was a kid. It was like a secluded paradise. Lounge chairs everywhere and a bar that Ash and I used to go get slushies from. They had so many flavors.

Then one day I discovered what was beyond the hedges that surrounded the pool. A beach. Open stretches of sand and even more water. Only it wasn't the clear, almost crystal aqua of my pool. It had a deeper hue. Beautiful still, yes, but more mysterious.

I think a part of me grew up the day I encountered the ocean. Not that it was the first time. But something about stepping from a small, peaceful, enclosed pool into the vastness of the ocean strikes a cord in me, as I imagine it did when it actually happened.

The pool was...is my childhood. Everything is fun. You know all there is to know about your surroundings, because what exists is only what you can see with your eyes. Nothing else matters.

But I know better now. There is more to the world and living than what you can see with your eyes. Ignoring that is dangerous. As with the ocean, there are currents that will sweep you under and away if you're not careful to keep your head above water...Some you won't be able to avoid, no matter how hard you swim. You just have to go with the flow; never go against the current. It's important to keep your feet on the ground whenevery you can. Going further only invites problems.

To have that pool, that representation, as my safe place is both ironic and fitting. I regress. What's new? Maybe one day I'll find the peace of mind to move from the pool and into the ocean. For now, I'll just focus on the present, remembering, that when all else fails...to just keep swimming.

Impulse

I wanted to hear your voice. The impulse arose, and I went with it...for nothing. I guess I should be glad. The whole time the phone was ringing, my stomach was in knots and my hand kept clenching and unclenching on the wheel. So why the disappointment? More importantly, why the sadness?

I was happy to find numbness. Not the forced, desperate kind, but the natural kind. The one that comes with time and distance. Finally, I thought, I've moved on and matured. Stopped acting like a hurt child. Maybe this is proof that things aren't settled...how can they be? We're in a stalemate, really. Years without communication have resolved only so much. I told myself that it was pointless to make a move. You aren't ready. I know you aren't. She has you so wrapped up in her, that you've stopped being yourself. You wouldn't listen. And you wouldn't care; at least, not enough.

Despite all that...in spite of all that, I wanted to hear your voice. It seems the child is still strong in me. Surprise?...not really.

She keeps me clean
of emotional clutter and debris.
Without her, there would only be the screams
that kept me up so many nights.

That annoying internal racket,
the runny nose and puffy eyes.
The kid did nothing but cry.
What else was I supposed to do?

The situation called for something new.
Something improved.
So I gave it over to the fire,
let defense mechanisms take hold.

And here I am.