Day 655: I'll Just...

Oh, sweet water, 14 whole degrees, stretching out before me like a great big lake of peace. It'a ritual, this, not just a swim. It's a daily pilgrimage to the wet cold (or warm, as spring and summer make their presence known). It's a rite. I step into the water. I dip my head under. I breathe the air and feel the water hold me. I feel the earth that holds the water in this shape so I can swim in it and I see the sun shining, either directly on us or pushing itself through clouds. 

Thank you, Jane ith with a silent Sm, for being there and being lovely and getting what I meant immediately. The dive was silky and fluid. My little hiccup of fear is getting smaller. Soon it will be just the tiniest of gurgles. I can tell the dives are getting slicker because it takes longer to get back up to the surface. When I splap in with my significant thighs, I don't go very deep, but when I slip in like a hot knife into butter, and the water closes back with only bubbles, I keep on going down. My body feels long rather than sturdy. 

Procrastination is no longer my middle name. It's my first and last, the make-up of my cells. And on that note, I'm off to do some work. Or am I?