I dream that I’m swimming: I’m diving for pennies at the bottom of the neighborhood pool; I’m clocking laps underwater at the gym; I’m holding my boys, and teaching them to love the water.
In these dreams, my stroke is long and strong, my body is lithe and light, and I am always pain-free. When I wake from a dream of physical exercise – especially swimming – I feel energized. An injury five years ago eliminated swimming from my “real life,” but the sensation of it, even in dream, brings me solace.
A friend has been suggesting that I try his pool, but I’ve been afraid. Worried that I couldn’t manage it. Worried that I’d set off a bout of pain.
Last evening I popped by his place, set aside my trepidations, and decided to stick a toe in the water at last, literally.
A Toe in the Water
My concerns were legitimate; the movements that once came so naturally to me might strain the injured arm and shoulder which are never entirely pain-free. It’s already been years of “managing” around this injury, and like most of us, I prefer not to trigger chronic pain.
But I’ve missed swimming more than I can express, nurturing the hope that someday I could give it a try even if it meant opting for a gentle breast stroke, or floating on my back propelled by a little flutter kick.
I sat by the pool and focused on the heat of the sun, which was comforting. My friend said nothing, but knowing he was there was reassuring.
Eventually, I waded in. I allowed my body to adjust to the temperature. I took a breath, I pushed off, and I swam.
If you asked me to define joy – right now, at this moment – I would say it was that moment, yesterday, and the 15 minutes that followed during which I experienced something akin to bliss. I reclaimed a dream, the physical sensation of freedom, and the natural high of pleasurable exercise – without pain.
The Power of Dreams
After the very gentle swim? Yes, I was sore. But otherwise no worse for wear that I could tell. No more sore than usual.
So to those who say that giving up is easy but trying is hard, I disagree.
When it comes to dreams, giving up is hard if not impossible if you’re giving up a passion, giving up what others take for granted, or giving up hope. I’m anything but a quitter; I refused to part with the slim possibility that I might be able to swim one day.
Sometimes, we believe we will never regain something of value that we’ve lost. Sometimes, we believe we will never be rid of pain – physical or otherwise.
We all deal with the remnants of injuries or constraints of some sort; we’re more bothered on certain days, and less so on others. But my swim? It was a gift, a reminder, a lesson – to hang on to dreams, tenaciously. And possibly, with patience, with focus, with a bit of luck – to attain them.
You May Also Enjoy
Good for you, Wolfie! Do you know if there’s a “theraputic” pool near you? We have one in town and the water is warm–like a bathtub. It’s heaven.
There’s a church with a wonderful health and fitness center open to anyone in the surrounding community. Very low cost. I may look into it at the end of the summer, if I find I can sustain this even once a week. I’m a little sore, but honestly, I’m thrilled.
Warm like a bathtub, Kitch? (How do you manage to extricate yourself from it?) 🙂
Giving up a dream? It can be nearly impossible. I am so glad that you didn’t give up this one! Happy swimming!
Thank you!
I’m sure you can imagine symbolism here for me. Yes, someday I will stick that toe back in the water – but only if I can overcome the fear.
I do understand the symbolism, Cathy. It took me a few years to dip a toe back in the water, and longer than that to trust more than a toe. Time will help. And the fear will lessen. (Sending hugs.)
I’m not a good swimmer but I enjoy a pool. Other than a pool – I have a fear of open water. But I totally get what you said above, “experienced something akin to bliss” and “the physical sensation of freedom.” That’s exactly how I feel when I’m snowskiing down a mountain – with a whole run to myself – no need to stop till I get to the bottom. The mountains resonate with me. When I’m skiing, I’m free. Isn’t it interesting how different forms of exercise can free us like that? I’m so glad you were able to swim – even gently and tenaciously.
Do you ever check in on Slim Paley’s blog? She has a beautiful post up today titled, Swim, about swimming and water and aqualillies. Knowing now that you’re a swimmer – you might really enjoy it. I thought it was beautiful.
http://slimpaley.com/2012/06/18/swim/
What a cool site referral, Barb. Thank you! (Just popped over. Fabulous post – adore the Alex Katz!)
I love the way you talk about your downhill skiing. That must be extraordinary (not something I’ve ever done). We’re so fortunate when we’re able to use our bodies to enjoy the physical – whether it’s walking, running, skiing, swimming. How easy it is to take it for granted – until you can no longer do it. And what a gift it is to have a taste again!
(Did you ever see the film, Downhill Racer, with Robert Redford? 1970s. Camilla Sparv. Almost documentary in style. Find it if you can. It’s fascinating.)
Beautiful post — great story, deliciously told! Congratulations on getting back in the water.
Thanks, Ms. HalfEmpty. (How’ve you been?)
You go.
I’m smiling ear to ear! Here’s to many more blissful experiences in the water. 🙂