There’s Something in the Water.
Diving beneath the water, an instant disconnection from the busyness of the world. Therapy.
Frolicking in wave after tumbling wave, or feeling at peace floating in the gentle flow of a river, my heart is happy. And in that moment, that is the most important thing in the world. Within seconds of being within the water’s embrace, a smile creeps across my face, a smile that is felt in my heart.
The joy of being in the water feels like my own special secret, one that no one could possibly know or experience like I do.
Surrendering to the water, everything falls away. My body is waiting, it knows, it is ready to let go. To lie back and be fully supported. There is nothing else to worry about, nothing else matters. I am simply held. And I am safe.
Water can be dangerous, but oh, my spirit finds home there. Feels safe there. Safe to be, in joy, in peace, in sadness, in grief. Is it any wonder given we spend the first nine months of our lives in that delightfully muffled, warm and held space? Is this longing in my body to be cradled by the water simply a craving to return to the womb? A craving that only my body knows and remembers?
Whatever it is, I can safely say I am a water baby, right down to my bones.
The letting go happens slowly, and the safety comes in a series of stages, each with their own beauty. It cannot be rushed, my body needs to trust the water to lie back and remain a float. To sink into it fully, yet to be beautifully held.
My head above the water, I can hear the world around me. Maybe children playing. A train passing. Birdsong. Traffic. A dog barking. Voices. The busy world around me. Always drawing me outwards, away from myself.
Lying on my back, heart to the sky and ears beneath the water. Everything beings to fall away. I can still vaguely hear the noises around me, and I listen as the pockets of water trickle around me whilst my body settles. Things feel quieter, calmer. My heart slows. My body relaxes.
Finally, the deepest layer unfolds. The silky water washing away the noise. The residue. Undressing me. Leaving me bare. The connection. The moment where my attention goes only inwards. Where I can feel my breathing, not through my mouth or my nose, but within my body. I can hear my heart beating within my body. A direct line in. Nothing but heart and soul. Just the way I entered the world.
Taking me back to the innocence in which I grew.
I rest here. Allowing myself to be held, feeling safe and with a sense of deep love and gratitude sweeping across my body, through my skin, into my cells. Washing through my entire being. In this moment I am open, beautifully so. Vulnerable yet strong.
It is not escape. It is not losing myself. It is a moment of perfect presence.
There is beauty in this world, and here I can truly see it. Water can be serenely still, gracefully flowing and crashing in violent waves. A powerful force of nature, with the capability to heal and destroy. All landscapes we can find within ourselves.
There is beauty in this world, and I can see it. I can feel it. I am it. I know in my soul that I am all that is around me. And I am therefore holding myself. In perfect stillness, perfect awareness and deep reverence.
The way it should be.
I am held by an infinitely loving, maternal energy. Held by Gaia. No matter the weight I carried when I entered the water, now it is shared. The wisdom of Gaia is my own. Her beauty, strength, resilience and vulnerability are my own.
When the time comes to raise my head, the world I left for a moment seems quiet and calm. There is a tranquility, a slowness that pervades the air and the land, reflected in the gentle beating of my heart and the stillness of my mind. Sensed through every part of my body, my heart and my wild soul.
I am alive.
Tamsyn Ann is currently balancing the intense study of a subject she loves, the eternal study of life in general, and the art of taking care of herself. When not in the world of academia, you’ll most likely find her wild heart outdoors, soaking up the seasons and honoring Mother Earth, or feeding her soul with some activity, good food, great company or a decent book. You could contact Tamsyn via Twitter.