I love the water. It speaks to me. When was the last time I swam? I cannot tell you. My relationship with water is similar to my relationship with people. amazing. wonderful. simple. complicated. down played. over the top.
I love the way water looks, feels, how it warms my spirit, washes away the demons and the mess of the outside world, how it can heal me, soothe me, make me feel oh so alive. but sometimes it scares me. how it can be so heavenly, but deadly. how it can appear to be harmless and weak, but be so damn strong. there is something about water that is, in a word: POWERFUL.
I considered the names Ocean and River for my second child. but when I saw my girl for the first time, I knew neither name was for her. she reminded me so much of the sky. bright, free, gorgeous, endless, and not to be fucked with. so just like that, my choices changed, and I felt no way, no regret, no apprehensions, because I saw even then that I had become the water: formless, calm, ever changing. Sometimes water is like that, it gives way to something else, not because it can’t hold its own, but because it doesn’t always have to be the centre of attention.
I love my rock, I love my sky, and I love the water. It speaks to me.
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