BALANCE

I feel good. In November I was stacking wood and fell with my arms full of fire wood. It was more like an uncoordinated, ugly sit-down but when I stood up my shoulder hurt; don't mess with the rotator cuff. I hurt the same shoulder back in ’95 and it took a long time to heal so I took a break from swimming, gave it a rest. After that it was one thing after another, keeping me out of the pool. Today the radio came on at 6:00, I was in the car at 6:15 and in the water twenty minutes later. My goal for the morning was just to keep moving, for an hour. I swim the first half lap breast stroke and pull into the wall free style. Goggles fit, ear plug didn’t leak and my shoulder got better as the swim progressed. I’ve been a serious swimmer for 30 years, with lay offs and breaks but I always come back, like a prodigal son coming home. 

Something about the way water moves over your body, the way the black line on the bottom and the lane dividers funnel you to the other end where you touch, turn and do it again; sort of like counting beads on the Rosary. For me, swimming has become a spiritual thing. The pool is my sanctuary and it’s natural to let all other things go for the moment, or for an hour. It’s about as close to meditation as I can manage. I don’t know how many laps I get in, don’t bother to count. Lots of random thoughts run through and the transition from one to another goes on without my permission. It might be the rings of Saturn, Sandhill Cranes or the words to a song. This morning it was B.B. King and Ruth Brown from the 80’s, doing a set at his blues club in Memphis; ‘Ain’t Nobody’s Business’. You can watch it on YouTube. I love the place where he tells her, “Don’t touch me like that, it makes me crazy.” Then I touch the wall, turn and something else comes to mind. It occurred to me this morning that I am growing old. We are all growing old but you reach a point where clever talk doesn’t restore anything that’s outlived it warranty. I remember when I turned 25, the math was easy; I was the same age my mother was when she had me. Today I didn’t have to do the math, I am the same age as my mother when she passed away; complications from diabetes and heart problems. I have a tender shoulder and my eye sight sucks. But I swim.

I walk in the door, swipe my card through the card reader and shuffle down stairs. It only takes a few minutes to change; takes longer to get my ear plugs adjusted. Windows at each end of the pool are dark and there’s almost always an open lane. By the time I finish, little old ladies are starting to arrive for their aqua-aerobics class at 8:00. The guards are anxious to get the lane dividers out of the water so the ladies can do their stretching. First light streams in through the windows on the south wall. I could have squeezed in a few more laps but the work was good and I’ll be back; guesstimate, my effort covers a little over a mile. I used to tell my daughter, ‘Work, play . . . rest. Find a balance." When you sip both work and play from the same cup you’re living well. When rest sneaks up on you in the middle of the day, that’s not so bad either.