The blade of my paddle dips in and out of the placid water. Ripples swim across the surface of
\nthe lake. Blue green gratitude awakens through my heart center as this sun drenched oasis holds
\nme so completely, so tenderly. Tendrils of my attention, stream like sunbeams, dipping under the
\nsurface to explore life beyond the lily pads to the fish hidden in the reeds, nibbling on morsels of
\naquatic delight.<\/p>\n
The blade of my paddle cuts through the barrier between our world and theirs. How privileged I
\nfeel for this window into their world. If I wanted, I could plunge my whole body into their
\ndelicately balanced ecosystem\u2013A natural disaster in the making. But, I couldn\u2019t join their world.
\nPoking one toe through would be best. Let the fish come to me, observe me, attempt a nibble at a
\nmanageable piece of me. That requires my awareness, and I’m not always swimming with
\ncuriosity. I forget there\u2019s an entire habitat underwater. I only know that my skin is simmering and
\nthere\u2019s relief in cold water. I plunge in not thinking about startling the fish. I plunge in away from
\nthe lily pads, at least. There, I won\u2019t be tickled by slimy lake weeds or lacerated by thoughtless
\nreeds.<\/p>\n
We walk so seamlessly through life, effortlessly balancing a world of expectations and
\nconsiderations. Hopefully we don\u2019t forsake the curiosity we began with. What intricate scales
\nthis world with all its manifestations registers! And what of the scales of the fish, its suit of
\narmor that protects and propels with similar ease? Only a truly discerning human can gaze
\nbeyond their board or boat to see their paddle\u2019s edge penetrate the glassy illusion, revealing a
\nseparate truth beneath the surface.<\/p>\n
I wonder about the heat tonight and this cool lake waiting down over the hill, holding space for
\nvisitors and permanent residents alike…fat blue dragonflies, rainbow patterned trout, shiny
\nminnows that glimmer in their moonlit flash mobs, lotus flowers still to come, unfurling in the
\ndaydreams of bullfrogs and horned toads. I wonder about stealing away to waters edge in the
\nnight, of slipping into the black lake like a seal to the beckoning ocean, leaving land when it\u2019s
\ntoo unbearable not to return, not to submerge itself in the salty coldness of home.<\/p>\n
Swimming in the night, we are equal. We risk ourselves yet move with caution, floating on
\ntrust\u2013Trust in self, in coexistence, in positive intentions, in buoyancy. What if we always moved
\nthrough life this way? Would the absence of knowing become cumbersome? Would the thrill
\ndissipate? Surely not every night would hold enough heat to kindle the coals of forbidden desire
\nand inspire a night swim.<\/p>\n
Tonight, I will meander down the hill and slip into the water, feeling into the refreshing cold,
\nfloating and eyeing the black and white sky. Here, I will listen to the rhythm of my own heartbeat
\nwith the sense of wonder I learned from observing everything else.<\/p>\n
Night Swim The blade of my paddle dips in and out of the placid water. Ripples swim across the surface of the lake. Blue green gratitude awakens through my heart center as this sun drenched oasis holds me so completely, so tenderly. Tendrils of my attention, stream like sunbeams, dipping under the surface to explore … Continue reading Diane Hicks<\/span>