Floating

Earlier this summer, my friends and I had our annual day on the lake. We enjoyed our time on the boat. Snacks, drinks, and water are my favorite combination. I always enjoy frolicking among the waves and there is always a moment where I have to simply surrender to the current and have some quality time with the water.

I love the water, but it didn’t become clear how much I needed to be in it until I lived in Jacksonville, FL. Until then, I had spent my life in pools with occasional beach trips with family and friends. My mother put me in swim lessons, so I would be a proficient swimmer. I am not sure if she knew how the water called to me, she just knew she wanted me to be safe when I responded because the answer would always be “I’m coming!”.

While living on the coast, my ears got tuned. There were days I would go directly to the beach after work and catch waves on my bodyboard until the sun disappeared from the sky. On Saturdays, I would wake before it rose and rush to the beach, hoping to catch the sun before it peeked over the horizon. I would float in the water as best as I could, sometimes even having breakfast on the shore. I visited springs and kayaked on rivers. It did not matter as long as it was natural. River or lake. Ocean or spring. The water always called. I always answered.

It still beckons. Every so often, I look at my husband and say “I need like a month by the ocean.” Getting my water fix now via a trip or two (as well as boat day) definitely isn’t enough. When I go to the water, I leave renewed. Sometimes I bring my cards and divine on whatever is ailing me. My spirits meet me there, sometimes asking me to go into the water and be baptized again, taking a spiritual bath in the source.

I have done years’ worth of shadow work learning how to root myself down. I spent years at the ends of two extremes. Weeks of melancholy would turn into exuberance. I have endured cycles of The Hermit and The Tower. I learned to see things I don’t wish to see for the sake of my survival, a good skill, but reality can be heavy. In the water, the currents carry me for a moment, allowing me a reprieve from the weight of pragmatism. For a brief moment, I can simply be and exist within the flow without heaviness, a skill that I am still honing. Learning to do so can be difficult without those moments.

I know now, through divination and spiritual exploration, that I MUST be by water. I can’t say that I am surprised. It gives me an excellent reason to go, and push past distractions and focus. (After all, I am not the only one there.) I am glad that I have learned to listen. There are times when it is loud and others when it is quiet. Its methods change, but the water has always called, and I will always answer.