My swim today, I dedicate to those wounded and lost in the senseless bombing of the Boston Marathon last Monday.
I have been harboring in my chest a hard and unyielding silence. I make my way to Walden. To heal. This is what I know to do. This is where I know to come. My sanctuary.
I wade into the clear waters. The sandy bottom bobs beneath me as I watch my legs disappear. Legs of a former runner, legs just like those of the spectators gobbled up by shrapnel. Mine are engulfed by pond water. I raise my hands together in prayer, a moment when thought drifts toward the crystal blue above. Thoughts of peace, of hope, of healing. The sky arms’ open. The waters of the pond accept.
There is weakness in me. My right shoulder, my right wrist. I am reminded that to keep going, one must work to strengthen one’s weaknesses. I remember that as these events teach us our weaknesses, we overcome them and become stronger.
Such a price to pay.
With my face mask, and head immersed, I live in another world. For a while I forget the pain of what people do that causes suffering to others. All that there is, is the breath I am bubble-blowing and the blue lilting water and the splashing clear spray, and the almost sky as my head turns. I forget. Almost.
And then it hits me. I need more. More, because I am going soon to be on land again and breathing the air that you breath and seeing through the sun slits you look through, and it will all be back again. The fact someone put a pressure cooker bomb, two of them, in trash cans and three innocent people were killed, and over a hundred and seventy wounded, some catastrophically.
I need more.
I ask Durga.
I swim, and I ask Durga. She is out there. Above the water level. Her golden light. Her dark beauty and peace. Her strength. Her courage.
She says, “trust”.
It is a powerful message. It comes to me as one arm pushes a hundred feet of water down and the other arm reaches, aching shoulder, upward into that blue crystal. It comes to me like a message written across the blue, trailing out the back of a plane. You know, like when someone is advertising something for all to see. The message just hangs there… forever… unquestioned.
I am about three quarters across the pond and I have headed straight into the middle, the deepest part. I do that, as I want to be in the depth where the earth below can pull through all that water pressure and I can feel that earth cord tug at me. And I do. I turn. The sun is coming into me in specks as I watch it on the water surface and somehow, my body is turning, turning and I find joy.
I find joy and I am released from this horrible hard unyielding silence that has weighed on me since Monday.
And I prey that the healing has reached those victims and their loved ones, too.
*Durga….a Hindu goddess, one of the universal mothers, representing courage, strength and compassion