It’s an overwhelming feeling, jumping into something so huge. The water closes around my head and I plunge in. Sounds become muffled; off in the distance screams of delight and splashing come from the surface. Everything is suspended; hanging in this landscape of stillness.
If I let go now my arms float over my head, my legs begin softly floating upwards. I let the current take my body away little by little. It’s overwhelming to let go, to lose control but I let go, I lose control and follow my body where it goes. Legs and arms swing up, floating towards the surface. But the other parts of my body, my torso, my heart and stomach and blood, heavier than the rest, pull down. Even though I know I’m just full of hot air, I float in both directions, feeling the water around me decide, pulling. I let go, I lose control.
My dress is wet; not even wet, saturated. Licking my skin, like it’s been plastered there. My hair, loose and out of control, wraps around my face. I let go, I lose control. The water slowly swirls me around, showing the new world around me in it’s watery, discolored, disfigured glory. Muffled and blurred and wet and wrapped. The life above is still long-distance. Water in every crevice and every fold of my dress, my hair, my skin, my body. I feel as though I’m being hugged by thousands of little arms; pulling me down then up and twirling me around.
I start my journey down. Everything above me, all colors and sounds stream upwards, towards the sun. The water swirls and twirls me around and it’s all suddenly changing. The light is up and the dark is down. Down in front of me, down where the heavy bits of my body are pulling. Inviting bubbles push up towards me, greeting me into the darkness. I panic; I know those bubbles aren’t here to welcome me. Bubbles are escaping, pushing the air inside towards the light above to escape the dark below. Bubbles of warning, do not go down, do not let go, do not lose control. Water swirling me and now pulling me downward, pulling my body and hair and breath and light down. My bubbles follow suit; pushing out of my lungs, escaping with the others. I realized my breath is escaping. That’s when I take control back, I take a hold.
My breath has escaped me but I must fight to get it back. My blood pushes to the outer limits of my arms, bringing with it the life I need. They push back, pulling at the watery ledges around them. I push and pull my arms towards the light, towards the top. Follow the bubbles, follow the breath, follow the life. I start kicking, kicking go of the watery darkness that surrounds my legs. Kicking and pulling and pushing; I send my body upwards; chasing the sun. Everything above is choppy bright light, colors swirling. It’s getting closer and closer.
Swirling sun, water-colored life. It’s getting closer.