what we in our bones

The other day I went swimming, in order to live into New Years commitment to get back into the water. I was raised swimming, competitively. I was one of those kids who had a permanent tan line all year round because I think the suit and the chlorine just stains your skin, even more than the sun. That's just my theory. I am totally comfortable in the water. I swim without having to think about what I am doing. I can speed up, slow down, breathe, change strokes, flip over, without having to consciously plan it out in advance. I am grateful for my ease in the water because I know that many people are actually frightened in the water and it takes an enormous amount of menal energy to get their body to float.

I taught swimming lessons in high school. The youngest kids, as always, were the most open to anything. And the older you got, the more anxiety was associated with simply being in water, to say nothing of putting your head in the water.

Back to my swimming the other day. I am in my customary active conversation with myself while swimming when I noticed a huge German Shepherd walk on the pool deck. No, not the Pope, an actual canine. And there was a person attached to the dog. A woman who appeared to be in her 40's, who appeared to be totally blind. Another woman, unattached to anyone, casually came around and tied the brilliant dog to the lifeguard chair at the edge of the pool and slowly took it's place as the protective and loving guide for this woman, blind. Very slowly the two humans slid into the water, physically unattached. Despite the woman's blindness I did not want to stare...but my mind began to gawk, stare, and focus my imagination on what a surreal experience it must be for this blind woman to be unattached -- completely. Her feet not grounding her and attached by gravity, her vision not grounded by the dog and attached by her hand and absolute trust and loyalty. She was weightless in water and attached only to the pressure of the water that held her up all around...the assurance that the water would protect and keep her, as long as she trusted it's purpose and function - she floats. And she did. The other woman, who "sees" did not hold her hand or guide her. She seemed to just talk to her acting as a boundary of sound, and I imagine, a loving set of eyes to make sure she was okay.

It was amazing to think about. I have a hunch there is much for me to learn from it as I can hardly stop thinking about it. Makes want to get back in the water, shut my eyes, and FEEL what it means to float, to be attached to all this glorious water all around, holding and keeping me.

Honestly, that one sappy guy is right -- our body in a wonderland.