Summer in Phoenix isn't popular. But, there is something I love about it. The cleansing heat, loose cotton dresses, copious amounts of ice water and sweet tea, homemade watermelon popsicles but the best part may be the midnight-moonlight swimming. Diving into the inky indigo water; fresh, cooling, mysterious. The crystal water by day transformed by the cover of evening into a deep dark pool. I always wonder if there's a shark or an eel or some other deep sea creature with teeth awaiting the dip of my toe, disturbing the black mirror. But there isn't. The pool is the same at night, as it is in the day, or is it? Is there magic in there? I float, braving the imaginary eel. Resting on my back in the still water, my eyes fixed on the enveloping midnight sky and I relax. I surrender. Time waits for me. Sometimes, are we afraid to relax and be still? Afraid of the creatures with teeth?
I first learned how to surrender with my body--yoga, meditation, running, floating in a dark pool--and then my mind was able to follow. I met a lady at camp scabs that asked me if I was a kinesthetic learner. I suppose I am. I've been fascinated by the idea ever since meeting her.
The irritability washes off me, heavy and dripping, like tar, to the bottom of the dark pool. Yes, I'm irritated and bothered! This recovery-self-discovery business is difficult and I feel another layer preparing to flake off revealing the newly discovered parts of me.
Tonight I baked a strawberry rhubarb pie. I could smell it's sweetness as I floated and then I could smell that crispy burning. oops!
Tomorrow, we'll have pie for breakfast.
I feel such love for you all and hope you find value in taking quiet moments to surrender and listen to yourself.