Swirling sea

The murky light slips in through my half-open eyes. The air envelopes me like water–knees weak, I slowly rise out of bed. Oh, it’s going to be one of those days, I murmur. The best way to describe it is as though caught in the undertow of a restless, clouded sea. Bits swirl around me, tasks, thoughts, emotions, memories, catching my eye and my attention momentarily but I can’t seem to grasp anything. I grab here and there, trying to focus my attention on each little bit but nothing seems to stick. I try to right myself and gain some clarity but it just doesn’t work.

Coffee doesn’t even scratch the surface.

And it seems as though the more I fight to grab and focus and become what my mind tells me I should be–working hard, attentive…the further it seems to be from my grasp. I go on with this reaching and pushing throughout the morning, trying and failing to get much done. I hear the voices in the swirling sea around me berating me for not being able to do what I have on today’s list…

…and I try to close them off.

By noon I am even more exhausted from trying to gain footing, trying to hold on, trying to be what I am supposed to be all morning. Trying to try. So exhausted that I can’t hold on any longer and I just begin to let go.

And in the letting go I begin to swirl and move with this restless sea, following the currents rather than trying to swim against them. I allow myself to trust that this sea will bring me eventually to the shore. I give myself permission to take care of myself, to give myself the kind of care I’d give a dear friend. By mid-afternoon I am looking out of the window, looking into the mirror, and the sea is beginning to calm.

By evening I am tired but relaxed, floating along with the current, and the sea’s surface is beginning to come into view.  After a cup of tea I gather myself into a well-worn grey t-shirt, feeling its familiarity like a lover’s arms, and gratefully crawl into bed.

In the morning the sun pours through the windows, a tendril of spring air curls in and around me. The light is much brighter and the sense of stillness is palpable. Putting my feet on the floor is a little like righting myself in the shallow, calm water and I enjoy the coolness of the water and the warmth of the sand. Slowly, I walk up onto the shore and a new day begins.