Pieces of Myself

I left at about 9:30 this morning and it feels like the sky is confused today. It’s like the clouds and light and fog just can’t seem to figure out what they are doing. I get it. Coordinating these things can’t be easy. One moment it is cloudy then foggy then there are hints of incoming sunlight and blue sky and then a sort of post apocalyptic haze from one direction and patches of wide open blue sky in another. Things look generally hopeful on the way to the beach until about Blue Lantern and Selva where it feels like Summer finally gives way to Fall. It looks like I found where the Fall Equinox is hiding.

I’m not sure if you call this fog. I’ll just call it haze. It is like fog but a tad thinner and higher. That’s all fine by me because it means I can swim and still see the beach, which is a prerequisite for my conservative tastes. As I head down the stairs, the surface of the ocean looks a little ruffled and dark grey. It looks like it is suffering from some sort of morning sickness. Then as I get closer to the water, it grows more blue. Finally as I am actually walking into it, it looks beautiful and clear. Now this is the ocean I know.

Like yesterday, surf is nearly non-existent. I don’t need to shuffle my feet because if there are any sting rays around my feet, I could see them clearly through the water today. It is quite nice.

I swim south. As I lean into the water, the coolness consumes me and I watch its energy travel through my insides. It’s a coolness that is markedly distinct from the outside air but not unpleasantly cold. It’s like slipping from one realm of existence to another. The texture of experience shifts as my visual and tactile perspective changes. Who was that who entered the water just a minute ago? Do I know him? My brain waves sync up with the rhythm of the wind swell as I slowly forget my life on shore.

While the water is clear, it is also dark and it is difficult to see much. The huge wall of haze bordering the southern horizon seems to absorb any color that might be otherwise present in the water. I think it is also purging my thoughts. It’s like a huge white hole. I can see the orb of the sun behind this vapor like an eye hiding behind a dense grey screen. It ravenously devours everything that it sees until the only thing left on the beach and in the water is just a sort of dusty residue of something that once was but is no longer quite the same.

I give myself over to the elements that remain here and let my memories fall and settle on the ocean floor and look upon the shore and the horizon and the headlands ahead as if I have never seen them before and will never see them again. Each moment simply comes and goes without leaving any trace so that the next one can pass without any resistance.

When I reach the headlands I can’t seem to make out any detail in the cliffs. It’s just a black silhouette. I notice the outline but that’s pretty much it. There are lots of small fish swimming here near the surface.

As I swim north I am beginning to see a lot more blue in the sky to my west. It looks and feels great. Finally some color. When I pause and have a look around, it still feels like there is a general malaise lingering in most of the air here. There is also some unusual helicopter activity just offshore. It is hovering in place near a boat. I wonder what that’s all about but I will probably never know.

I keep swimming. I’m trying my best to counter act the white hole to the south and point my light receptors towards any and all blue sky I can find. From here, my life on the shore seems like a dream I can just barely recall. It’s hard to place specific names and faces. I try my best to string together sequences of events and god only knows if I have done so in the right order. I mostly remember shapes and shadows. I remember a feeling I felt when I stared into something that was red. I remember sounds but can’t place the words. It’s all just garbled syllables. I remember a song that sounded like light. I remember leaning into it and bending the air around me to hear more.

I finish the swim. The water is so calm and I can see so clearly in the shallows that I swim as close to the base of the ramp below the stairs as I possibly can. I walk back up the stairs and gradually remember the self I left at the shore. When I get to the showers there are two guys there. One is rinsing off and speaking loudly about news, AI, and Facebook. He speaks with great confidence but it only makes half sense and I wonder if he knows the other guy or if the other guy just so happens to be in close physical proximity. Soon the other guy responds to the confident talker and I figure they must be together. This dialog (or more of a monolog) makes me question just how many pieces of myself I might have left at the bottom of the stairs. Lets hope I can at least get myself home.