Swimming Again
Sometimes, going to the doc can be a really good thing. Remembering how she tenderly raised my legs as if they might break, and was so concerned for me, made me realise afresh that there is so much – so much! – I can do to help myself.
I can guard my thoughts about life in general, and disability in particular. Where I can’t be cheerful, I had best think nothing at all, just cruise in neutral, until I’m feeling more optimistic again. I notice, with feelings approaching awe and incredulity, that bad thoughts or caustic expectations do actually, really, truly, attract bad outcomes. Not only that, but I see the gap between the thought and the outcome shortening. If I think a bad thought, (can’t get much worse than, “I wish I was dead”) the very next day, when I have forgotten all about that thought – WHAM! – I almost get myself killed not once, but twice. Part of me is detached and recognises what is happening, firstly, when I am blinded by the sun and do not see a car coming as I cross a road; and secondly, when being invited by another driver to move out into traffic, into what turned out to be the path of a souped-up snazzy motor being driven much too fast straight towards me.
OOOPS! I’d better not think like that again.
I digress. I was at the doctors, and thinking, “Hey, I’m fifty, fgs, surely I know what to do here?”
Swim. So I started again the next morning early, while my resolve was fresh. I am still going, not every day, but five times a week, with the eight o’clock crowd. Seline leaves early for school, and then, I can head out, just before the traffic gets too heavy. I have even invested in a monthly swim membership, which costs, and also saves money, and keeps me motivated.
It is bliss. It is bliss. I don’t count lengths, I just swim, and chat, and laugh, and shower, and sauna and meet friends. I have met several now, on several occasions, and am always meeting new people, other friendly faces.
With all this exercise, putting on the socks is easier and less important, too; though sometimes I forget whether it would be better to put the right sock and shoe on first (yes) or the left, so that indecision resembles a dance, take your right shoe by the hand…or put your left sock on, your left shoe on, left right, left right, shake it all about. Do the hokey kokey and you turn around, that’s what it’s all about, YAY!
To see that my new friends often have ageing ailments, hobbles and stumbles, is endearing, and makes me feel humble and reassured. As I did when I was writing Trapped, I realise again that being at boarding school and rather isolated, I have not had much of a chance to build up what you might call a ‘normal family template’. So, I have had to learn the skill of living joyfully at close quarters, of taking chances for the sake of love and affection, and of learning to trust other people to be reasonable, rational, hopeful and forgiving, just as I hope to be.
It makes me sad to think that for so many years, I expected only harsh responses, criticism and condemnation. Most people are not like that. Most people, are kind, thoughtful, forgiving and generous. So, making mistakes is not important, any more. Getting a life is far more crucial.
Was grateful to see a file of geese flying directly overhead this afternoon. I felt light, and full of admiration.
