Fly

I left at 8:30 and skies are overcast with no signs of burning off anytime soon. That doesn’t mean they can’t. Things happen fast here at the beach.

I walk down the stairs and onto the shore and I try to imagine how this big gray body of water can possibly not be cold. Certainly temps have plummeted. I can see the cold in the texture on the water. I get in and soon realize the error of my thoughts. Well actually I realized that a long time ago but I seem to need to be constantly reminded and life has proven itself entirely capable of doing just that. Hey thanks life!

Anyways, the water is warm. It’s all so good here under the surface. So good. And I must say it is not too shabby above either. Complain all you will (and I will) about the clouds but it is serenely beautiful. The clouds overhead are a strong gray but there is a strip of luminescence spanning just above the horizon that adds a soft glow to the water.

Today I swim south and I try to let go of everything. Everything. Yesterday I was teetering on the edge of surrender and control, action and non-action. I haven’t really left that edge today but I am facing in the direction of surrender. What would it be like to fully surrender? Have I really ever allowed myself to do that? I talk about it a lot, but I’m not sure how much I have truly committed myself to it. It’s terrifying. I’m noticing that the idea of full surrender gives me this sort of vacuous sensation in my gut. That feeling when it seems the bottom is going to fall out. It’s like standing on the edge of a cliff and leaning into a chasm. I have only been able to sustain myself at the edge for so long because any longer and I’d fall. I fear that if I fall I’ll die. But what if I don’t? Maybe that’s it. Maybe we have to fall to catch the trade winds that blow through the canyon and fly.