Crash goes my arm, yet again. I’m swimming backstroke and have forgotten to keep my eyes open. I love the feel of the water stirring and renewed energy, but only seem to swim straight with my eyes open, not closed.
I do some of my best thinking swimming backwards. Not sure why. Except the quiet surrounds me and somewhere in the rhythm I find room to let go. Troubles stirring? Let them sink with the leaves. Aches and pains? Soothe them away with every kick. Decisions lingering? Let them slide aside. Just don’t crash into the divider again.
Sometimes in the thick of things, I’d rather just keep my eyes shut. Drown out the noise of the world. All the negative voices and overwhelming things. But that makes for a rather dark pool.
So, I kind of love that I have to keep my eyes open, too.
It makes me look up. I get to watch the swirl of dawn’s rays alight on the twisting clouds or geese fly overhead, or sometimes seagulls strayed far from the ocean’s edge. At sunset, there are planes that drift by or hot air balloons gliding above, too. The canvas of possibility is wide open to my blurred, bubbled perspective behind the goggles.
And there’s the catch: I can only site on possibility when my eyes are wide open. The truth must be fully present for wisdom to seep into my decisions and for me to act from a place of wholeness, and be renewed to give. Whether it’s for a writing project, a gift for a friend, or an ability to move over and make room for the inevitable seasons of change, I can’t hide from difficulty at all.
Take courage this week in facing your challenges, knowing if you look at them directly, it’s the first step to freedom and your dance of resilience can arise once more.