I don’t know about you, but I lost my connection to my soul for many years. When I was a child I knew how to feed my soul. I laid amongst flowers. I dug holes with my dog all afternoon. I built sand castles. Most of all, I talked to God. My serotonin fix came from breathing salt air, running barefoot. I ran. I hopped. I skipped. My bathing suit was olive green. I remember Aubrey in Barbados giving me my first swimming lesson. I was probably three.
About bathing suits….
When I was a child, the beach was my home. As the sun peaked it’s pretty happy head above the horizon, my little pink toes were hitting the deck. Swimsuit. Check. Towel. Check. Adults. Sleeping. Uncheck. The smooth stones of Grand Lake made a shaky wobbly welcome as my small feet tried to find foothold as I slipped and shuddered my way along to the inky darkness of the lake. The morning rays of the sun glinting like little diamond sailboats along the surface. The call of the loon so lovely echoing in the morning air. My throat constricts as I recall these precious moments.
My toes gingerly would sink into the frothy shore of the lake. Testing the water, my youthful back would arch backwards as the cool bite of the water would send a chill up my spine. Causing little goosebumps on my brown summer skin. A smile would break over my youthful face. Ahh, morning swims. The towel with it’s broad stripes would be abandoned by the shore. Usually in childish neglect, the edges being licked by the water. Taking a few quick leaps, my body would splash into the waves, my bottom would find a resting place in the the silky sand. Little minnows would flit away from my happy body. I would tilt my body backwards, and my young feet would poke out of the water like happy buoys bobbing along on the waves.
I spend time lately remembering. So I can get back there. When I became a teenager, so much changed for me. The lake became about looking cute in a bathing suit. Agonizing about perceived flaws. That awful plague of irrational ugly thinking stole joys from me for too many years.
Today, I run. I skip. I hop. I lay in meadows. I talk to God. I have left Adulthood behind. I’m returning to Innocence.
I love you.