Swimming

When I dive into the pool, I dive into rejuvenation. Swimming completely envelops my senses and I drown in a state of simultaneous hyperactivity and Zen. With each swift stroke, I push back both water and the day’s worries, propelling myself forward and kicking away the stress that threatens to bubble over. Some part of my mind seems to detach itself in the flurry of movement and straining of muscles, until only the singular present holds any meaning and everything else — yesterday’s argument, today’s long to-do list, tomorrow’s disquieting uncertainty — floats briefly around my head and settles where my consciousness cannot touch. The tumultuous things obscuring my focus are sorted out and reevaluated. Heart pounding, lungs burning, each little gasp of air is a gift received at calculated intervals, and in the heat of the moment is worth a sea of gold. Lap by lap, I find myself feeling more alive than ever.