I am not as cool as I would like to be. Yesterday, I was downright lukewarm.
My mind isn’t always kind to me. My thoughts might wind around a certain bothersome spot, a point on my memory map made of words. Did I misunderstand something? Have I been assuming bliss? Could I have become ignorant of something very important while leaning too heavily on sweet easiness? I’ve made grave errors like this before. Must remain vigilant, must watch for bad habits that become big deals.
That spot around which mind became tangled rendered me immobile and dumb. Where the water is deep, arms and legs had better keep moving at just the right pace.
So, I sank.
The deep end had taken my breath away for a terrifying moment, and only a moment of solitary breathlessness was enough to cause a scramble for solid ground or at least a view of the bottom unwavering.
I sloshed into the baby pool, suddenly not able to tread water with the grownups. I flapped, heavy and wobbly, like the babies, and baked uncomfortably in the sun. I cried like the toddlers who scraped their knees on the rough bottom, but put my mommy-face back on when my own small person popped in for snacks between trips around the block.
The cause of the internal crisis doesn’t matter. What matters is that it could happen at all.
I don’t always know how to handle myself with grace yet, in this deeper version of life.