Tidal

I remember learning to swim when I was little, not in the pool with my favorite aunt, but at the beach with my dad. He wouldn't allow me to be afraid of the ocean. He picked me up in his arms, turned his back to the waves, and let them crash over us, telling me when to close my eyes and hold my breath. Telling me when it was safe to open up and breathe again. As I got bigger, I could stand in the breakwater myself, bracing my little body against the impact. I remember anticipation, waiting for the dull smack of the water, secretly hoping for a huge wave that would knock me off my feet and drag me out to sea. I loved the disorientation that came when I was trapped under the wave-belly -- where is up? watch your bubbles -- the near-panic of running out of breath and then the euphoria of breaking the surface and gasping for air. Dragging myself back onto the shore, still panting, then running back to do it all over again.

Older and bigger, I stopped turning my back to the waves. I faced them and learned to dive into them, more in control of where I ended up. The thrill of truly swimming, able to outstroke the currents, clear the breakers, and glide out into the deep, deep water where feet and sandy bottom drew further and further apart. Floating on the surface of swells, human sargasso weed, watching the sky and losing my bearings, drifting, drifting, drifting.

Sometimes a storm, sometimes a flat, glassy sea. I swam, always.

I don't remember when it changed. But it did. Fear and caution make a timid swimmer, one who waits for the waves to die down before wading out, eye to the shore, remember where your towel is, don't go too far astray. Self-conscious (who swims in a T-shirt and underpants?), self-doubting (I can't), self-defeating (I never really liked this anyway).

I want returned to me what fear and caution took away. Brashness, and boldness, and not-giving-a-damn. Let the tsunami come; my feet are in the sand and my back is to the sea, I want it, I'm waiting, I'm holding my breath and closing my eyes and waiting.