In the Deep


I have been pulled behind a boat a handful of times. Most memorable was during my middle school years, when a friend invited me to her family’s lake house for the weekend. She was an excellent water skier, gliding and jumping the wake as I watched, seated backwards in the boat. feeling the warm sun on my legs and face. Her older brother took his turn, as well, stepping it up a notch or two by dropping his skis and doing tricks.

My opportunity in the water was spent struggling to rise up, and after surfacing, unsuccessfully keeping the skis from flying in opposite directions off of my feet. I never experienced the feeling of actually skiing behind a boat, only bumping behind it clumsily until the boat slowed or I let go, whichever came first.

Letting go brought an instant halting and sinking into the water, buoyed by the life jacket keeping me afloat. Bobbing up and down, I waited for the boat to circle back to either try again or climb back in for a break. The waiting brought a strange sensation of suspension between what had just happened and what was coming up next. It was a vulnerable place to be, hanging out in the middle of a lake waiting and watching the other boats and watercraft zip around me.

This is the visual that comes to mind when I describe how I am doing these days. It feels as if I am suddenly sinking after years of being pulled at break-neck speed over and across the water, bumping over and skimming the surface, hanging on for dear life. I have been handling a lot of surface things, feeling the spray of the pace on my face. My arms have grown tired of holding on as discouragement from not being able to quite pull myself up and move gracefully settles in as reality.

The release of the rope has caused me to go deep. At least in the water a lifejacket keeps you afloat as you wait for the circling back. I am not sure that I am wearing a life jacket. The water feels murky, and I wonder how to navigate it. Has the driver of the boat noticed I am not there anymore? Will there be a circling back?

So this is where I am. I am in a slower, deeper place, trying to decide what the next step is. Do I wait to reach for the rope and give it another go or climb back up into the boat for a rest? Do I ask for a tube to be thrown to me so that I can do something that feels both fun and successful while I sort it out?

These are the questions that fill my mind and both energize and paralyze me. So I wait in the deep.

Thanks for heart-composting with me! I appreciate your words.