Sunday, September 7, 2008

learning to swim

not me, a five-year old friend. 

i don't really know how to swim, beyond doggie-paddling and something that could be called a breast stroke, although 'breast clutch' is probably a more apt descriptor.

learning to swim is on my list of to-dos before i die: take a long trip with no itinerary or final destination; read frog and toad to my child; swim in the ocean without fear or panicked breath. 

there are lots more. tell me yours.


  1. I've been trying to think what to say about these two for what seems like days.
    I love to swim, it makes me forget and takes away the anger.
    Sometimes I swim so hard its like I'm punishing myself and I can only stop when the tears have dried up.
    I'm scared of the sea, of that feeling of utter abandonment and the complete unknown below and around you. I'm not scared of drowning more like I'm scared of drowning out at sea and with the realisation that its not scary and all those years and opportunities lost of exploring the deep blue.
    Alistair goes scuba diving often, he has the certification to teach but I'm too frightened to let him.
    Its irrational and often makes me sad

  2. Again, there's a lilting (if that's a word) in movement, the transit from the previous two ("There and here, lost and found") to these two. Almost a redemption. (And with neither confession nor penance!)