This morning, I experienced what I might call a baptism in my new approach to life. Big changes have been coming for a while now, and I knew they were going to happen, I just didn't know when.
The other day, I took the leap and began to make those important changes.
I wrote here about my love of the water and how it purifies me, beyond the physical exercise of it. I vowed then, back in March, that I would return to swimming.
Yet, when I returned to the "real world," somehow that vow slipped away from me. I got distracted.
In January, I started taking a Yogadance class, mainly because it was being taught by a friend as a new venture, and I wanted to support her, and I thought it would be good to move. And I stuck with that class for months.
I thought is was good for me. The music was fun. I was exercising. How can that be bad?
But gradually my back, knees, and ankles were becoming worse. My arthritis was kicking up. I was in constant pain. I came home from every class exhausted and wanting only to sleep. My mind shut down. Yet, like a robot, I kept going to class.
Now, please, understand. I am not saying that Yogadance is no good. Far from it. Everyone has different needs. And watching the other women in that room, I know that it was good for some of them.
It just isn't good for me.
And this morning, for the first time in nine months, I returned to the Y to swim.
It was beyond amazing.
After a nine month hiatus from swimming, I plunged in and swam thirty laps. THIRTY. That is what I was doing when I was in my peak swimming routine a couple of years ago.
And when I emerged from the water, my brain was on fire with electricity, and my back and joints felt better than they have in years.
I have come home.
Home to my beautiful, life-giving water.
And I plan to return to those waters regularly, probably four times a week all summer long, to drink from their spring of energy, and replenish all that life saps away.
I am reborn.
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