Swimming on a High

Exhilarated.

That's how I felt after Raine's first swim last Thursday. My first, too, after eight months or so of being landlocked (I swam till I was about 8.5 months pregnant). As soon as I stepped into the pool, holding Raine, I felt at home.

Swimming has always been something I could do well. Oh sure, not well enough to compete, but well enough to feel confident in the water; well enough for me to enjoy it. In fact, I'd even dare say that though I may not be the better swimmer compared to my excel-at-any-sport sister Rix, I am the stronger one. And that's saying a lot, given my total klutziness and lack of coordination on land.

In the water, while doing my laps, the world is reduced to a blurry hum. There's nothing else but me, my body, my rhythm, my heartbeat, my thoughts. Embraced by the water, surrounded by it, I feel free.

Sheer pleasure.

After our swim (my mom took Raine after her swim while I did a few laps), I couldn't stop grinning. I haven't felt so high in ages. It was an ear-to-ear-smile-laugh-out-loud-even-when-alone kind of high. I knew my body was going to kill me the next day--all those unused muscles complaining--but I didn't care. And it felt so good.

I haven't felt that kind of good in a long time. Sure, The Hubby makes me feel loved, Raine makes me laugh, my work has given me a sense of accomplishment. But this kind of good comes from being able to enjoy something that isn't essential, but pleasurable nonetheless (aren't the most pleasurable things non-essentials?). And being able to share it with Raine, having her enjoy being in the water, made it even better.

I hope that, someday, Raine will find something that will give her this kind of high. I pray that she learn to relish life's little pleasurable moments. And I thank God for mine.