I’m not a great swimmer. I prefer to swim where I can see and probably even touch the bottom. I do not do flip turns. Backstroke is my favorite because I can just breathe. My triceps do not like it so much, but I have stopped listening to them.
Today the pool was beautiful. There are swirls of cloud in the sky. Birds and airplanes flew over me. The sun blared out from behind the pines. The water slid around me. I counted my strokes to avoid bashing my head on the side of the pool.
And I thought. It’s very meditative, swimming. I don’t have a waterproof music thingie and reading is out of the question; besides, I don’t work out hard enough when I read. I listen to my own breathing, watch the sky or my splashes, reflect.
I’ve been thinking lately about turns of phrase for living. In church, I heard again the words, “live into…” referring to a commitment or a covenant. Often, I hear “live out” in the same context. In, out. Out, in. Hrm.
Living into implies that life has a fluid shape, like water, that can be poured into something, that life can take on the shape of something else. Living out makes me think that life is more like light, beamed or directed by a lantern or a flashlight or a laser.
No conclusions. I like both water and light, particularly together, like they were in the pool today.