The Week at Walden

On Tuesday I arrive to find her released. No longer moored to the sands to allow mankind to clamber into the lifeboat that she is on sweltering summer Sundays.

To the ropes that bind her to earth. Making swimming possible for toddlers and children. Mothers to watch over children watched over by lifeguards.

Now she is free to float out into the deep well that lies beyond the imaginations of most summer pond users. For all the seasons that stretch beyond the heat, reaching into crisp mornings and truncated days.

Many have gone from her with this untaming.

I watch ripples of her skin loosened to sail free in the wind. The fresh gusts blowing her more and more into the further shore.

Only those that clutch onto their water wings with tip-toe fingers, pushing her girth under them with cupped hands, still come.

And late day sun seekers.

For us, it is the best of Walden. The quiet seeping of water whispers. The gentle hum of bird and man in contemplation of our silent fates. The meditation we embrace.

On Wednesday I splice through water rippling high. Creating a wall to test my limbs and breath. Smacking face googles. I push through knowing with this I become more the strength I want to be.

Knocked back with every breath of her against me. I push harder, fight stronger. Challenged. Until water into wings fly. And she surrenders to flat line calm. So I can blow left right harmony into bubbles.

Nirvana on the far side.

Thursday she holds her cold raw edge to my back. Grey in airless overcast skies. No one comes to witness her.

Arm over green cap I am alone in deep water. Yet I am home. Thinking back to all the times, all the years I have swum in grey and failing day. Thinking of how she held me through the narrow passage of mental instability. Always guiding me back to shore. Always letting me go.

Friday I bring my failed attempts to be the best me I am able. I swim in sun downing her path of light onto water. To become my path. I ask for forgiveness for my shallow, nitpicking self.

And I wonder at her as I am humbled by a swift stroke sailing in white cap past me. Reminding me humility. Binding me back into my self. Questioning ego. Letting go of vanity.

Saturday the summer returns crowds to her shores. So I wait. I wait to witness her lessons. And I laugh at myself as she reveals…

Next Post: Lessons from Buddha’s Pond.


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