Under the Sea
These days, there is a lot to think about. After the deluge, we’re just a drift in a familiar but uncharted sea. Waking up each day feels like opening my eyes underwater. The weight, pressure, lack of clarity, filtered and diffuse light fractured and broken. Sound is muffled. It is hard to know my directions. Breathing is hard if not impossible at times. Humans aren’t meant to live under water. Movement feels heavy and slow. I feel suspended not at the bottom but slowly sinking away from the surface. Getting to the surface is hard. I tried at first to just read everything. Each bit of writing and analysis. Like guide wire of information that would lead me to the surface of the turbulent waters and a look at the horizon or shore line. The place we need to be headed toward. But the reading just churned the waters more. Changed the currents too rapidly. So I went for things from the past. Poems of Pablo Neruda. Songs of the Spanish Civil War. Writings of Ella Baker. Those buoyed me a bit. Reminding me that there is a ship on this sea somewhere that people have been working on for a very long time. I’m bound for that ship. I just have to break the surface again. I think I’m getting there, mostly when I’m near friends or family. Mostly when I feel connected to the people and things I love. Their voices travel father and clearer through the water especially when they are laughing and saying “I love you”.