This is where I want to spend my time.
But I can’t get there. I spend my time on the surface, thrashing around, keeping everyone else afloat. We never dry. Life is too permeating to ever let go for long enough. All is well, but unsettled. All is well, but exhausting. All is well, but focused on everything else. All is well, but run-of-the-mill, lacking the sweetness of digging deeper.
Sometimes in my urge to find the depths, I dive in. I charge down as fast as I can, kicking and fighting my way into the darkness. My arrival changes my destination. I bring stress, chaos. I find the depths, but haven’t the eyes to see them, perceive them. I arrive but am unable to rest for my endeavor to stay there. Buoyed by my own frenzied movements, I must fight myself for my own presence and thus, ruin the very peace I sought so earnestly.
The only way is to sink. To cease striving, battling either for the surface or the deep, and let go. To give in to where my Self wants to go and wait as the opportunity presents itself. The frozen stance of one who happens upon a deer and desires to drink in the sight without causing fear, I hold my position in stillness, patience, and let myself fall ever so slowly.
This time, as I enter the depths, my spirit is prepared and open. It is not out of hunger that I come near, though I feel that. It is out of availability and desire to be still, to see what I see, to learn what I might learn. My surroundings drift gently with the deep current, unhurried yet steady. My presence leaves it all undisturbed, so that I might observe, absorb, and be changed. Articulating a newly integrated truth is a perk, but not a necessity. And when the moment comes, I push softly off the floor and paddle easily back to the surface, where I find myself newly strengthened to continue until I return.