Woman Of the Waves

Water gave me wings.  It didn't ask me if I was stronger than the next person.  It asked whether I could move my mass through it's substance more aquadynamically than my opponent.  On land, muscle wins.  In the water, strength, minus resistance, wins.  I am a nyad.  When I want to go deep, I go deep.  When I want to fly over the surface, I fly.  And you can't catch me, mermaid that I am.  But if I want to, I can be by your side, slippery quick.

Water has always set me free.  On land, I am limited to horizontal movement.  Submerged, the manifold of vertical possibilities opens up.  The water receives me.  Cradles me.  Lifts me as I fly, undulating through it, surface-whale breathe, and dive.  It supports me in my dance--my every way twirls, and the snaky dance of my kelpy hair.

It sets my mind free with its silence, blocking out plodding land-problems.  It is a contemplative, ever-present friend, singing a song without words, an inexhaustible dance partner who never tires, not in a thousand nights.  Sometimes I meet it in the cocoon of my evening bathtub, and sometimes I find it in the great, writhing oceans of the globe.  I love it gentle and I love it ferocious--great sea dragon thing.

Submerge yourself in whatever sets you free.  Embrace the element(s) which allow you to leverage your strengths, and which do not limit your potential.

Tending a sail on the tall ship Mystic Whaler in the Hudson River.  Someday I would like to captain my own boat.