The word for today is FLOAT. FLOAT can be a noun or a verb. We can decorate a FLOAT and then ride it in a parade. We can drink a root beer FLOAT at an old-fashioned soda fountain. We can FLOAT down a river on a raft or a FLOAT. Leaves FLOAT through the air, people FLOAT in water, angels (if you believe in them) FLOAT on clouds.
When we FLOAT something is supporting us, we do not have to work for or at it. When I was in high school in the high pressure, high performance suburbs of NYC, I used to anticipate the first time I could go the beach, to the ocean--the first time I could FLOAT. I would walk from one classroom to another or study for an exam annd imagine my first immersion in water, the weightlessness, the absolute lack of pressure, the easing of all my distress and worry.
I have lived near the water most of my life. Now, as a Midwestern resident for the first time, after 45 years on the East Coast, I live 1/2 block from Lake Michigan. I can walk into the lake, raise my legs, throw back my body and FLOAT. The fresh water does not have the same buoyancy, the vitality and energy of the ocean, but it does support me, it does relieve me. For a few moments I have no worries, only total trust in what lies beneath me.
When I was a girl, before high school, before grade school even--I remember being carried into the water by my father. My father was and is a relatively big man, 6 ft. tall, strong, capable. Maybe I was 3 or 4 maybe I could swim, maybe not, but he would hold me in the ocean, teach me how to float, lift me above the waves, protect me from the imaginary sharks. I have never felt either safer or more exhilarated.
There is a man who lives in my neighborhood, a relatively big man, 6 ft. tall, strong and capable (at least in my imagination). Sometimes we meet at 8:30 or 9 at night, after the lifeguards have gone off duty, after the sun worshippers have gone home, the moms have made dinner,the children have been tucked in. We dive into the water, we swim, I jump up and wrap my legs around him, he puts his arms around me. I recognize a feeling of primal safety. There is a lot I do not understand about my friendship with this man, but I do understand this feeling. It is very basic, very simple. It is a feeling that I've been looking for, either consciously or unconsciously, all my life.
I have also been wondering about the difference between floating and drifting. Floating sounds and feels safe; drifting implies a directionless danger. I could drift into the rapids, I could drift into trouble, I could drift away--and maybe no one would notice or no one would find me. But when I float there is no need to go anywhere to do anything, no need to worry. For that moment I am perfect, I am taken care of. I am home with nature. I am light, I am free.