Mistaken Purpose

Sometimes, when life’s crazed antics become overwhelming, one just needs to step back. Close their eyes. And breathe.

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           The rush of water hit me as I dived, holding my breath as my eyes strained to stay open behind my cheap swim goggles. Once I was adjusted to my changed situation, I swam a little farther out to avoid any potential falling rocks. I could barely see the hand in front of me in the murky water, but that was hardly surprising. It was the ocean after all.

What I could see was the fish around me, their dull scales occasionally flashing in the little light that made it under the surface as they dashed away from my kicking feet, only a couple staying behind to check out the weird land animal that dared invade their space. If I weren’t underwater, I would’ve chuckled at this behavior. Then I regretted that thought.

Curiosity wouldn’t have been a good quality for them to have if I were a fisherman. Or a poacher. Luckily for them, I was just a swimmer doing what she did best: escape.

I blew out air through my nose to let my body sink just a little more before I began paddling again. The farther I went out, the clearer the water became, free from the silt floating around the base of the cliff I jumped off of, exposing the beautiful display of color dancing in the tide. I paused to take it all in. What a perfect view.

Then I saw a plastic bag floating on the surface, its shadow sliding across my outstretched arm. I scowled, not at it, but at whoever decided that they were too good for the environment. Sighing internally-of course, I didn’t want water in my lungs- I surfaced and took a deep breath. Squinting at the sudden unfiltered sunlight, I carefully maneuvered myself over to the litter. Looking at the label on the side, I rolled my eyes. JikJacks. Of course. The only mall complex in the area that still had plastic bags.

I snagged the bag spitefully and spun around, my peaceful swim interrupted by the new mission I gave myself. My eyes darted across the surface of the water that I longed to be under. Any more junk floating around? Any more reason for me to be upset in the best place in the world?

After hours combing the area, I wrinkled my brow. Nothing. I wasted my time for nothing because of a stupid plastic bag. My heart sank. For nothing. Of course. It was probably blown in from some garbage truck that didn’t close its door or something. No-one would intentionally leave something like this floating around, not with how things were at the moment. Too many put-aback environmentalists would ruin this little slice of peace-and-quiet. I wrinkled my brow.

So why was I so disappointed?

When I glanced at the sky in a futile attempt to find an answer, my eyes bulged in my skull. Instead of the cheerful yellow sun, a cold silver-white moon stared back at me, silently judging my presence under its shadowed gaze. I gulped. It was time to head back. I took a breath and dove back down into the depths to escape its ever-watching eye.

My legs kicked to the beat of my racing heart, my arms aching from the strain I put on them as the plastic bag dragged in the water, slowing me down in my pursuit of land. The sensation of the pressure of the goggles made my eyes go wide, spinning around in my skull to find the beach.

The burn of my lungs grew ever the more painful, making me realize that it was time to surface. But when I tried to turn my body, it wouldn’t let me go up, only spin around, its circling deeper and deeper as I struggled to preserve my last breaths.

My vision flickered, making me panic at the thought that I wasn’t cycling any more ‘good gases.’ I tried to not hyperventilate because of my fear of suffocation. What was I thinking? I had never gone out this far without a friend or at least a tracker so people knew where I was. I had left that at home to escape that sense of being watched only for their benevolent intentions to be replaced by the cold indifference of the moon. Only a satellite in space and fish would know where I was.

Then I felt something press upwards on my torso, pushing me gently back to the surface. I instinctively turned my face upwards as my body broke the surface, blowing stale air before gulping down the sweet fresh breeze. After a moment of recovering from my fright, I looked down.

There was nothing. Only my kicking feet were keeping me up. A chuckle escaped my lips, then another. Soon I was giggling at the sheer ridiculousness of the whole situation. Of course I was worried, but I shouldn’t have panicked. I was just on my own in the water for the first time in twelve years, afraid of being alone.

Was it escape from society that I desired, or freedom from my fear? I rolled my eyes at the confusion of two obviously different things. Well, I knew the difference then. The invisible weight on my shoulders was alleviated as I closed my eyes, a smile making the skin under my cheeks wrinkle with joy as I basked in my revelation.

I was free after all. From confusion, and from the heavy-heartedness that I walked through life with. I had friends. Family. I wouldn’t be alone for a long time, even when I was away from them. If I took a step back to breathe, they would be there waiting for me, us all being connected by the same golden tiles in the silver mosaic of life.

I breathed more deeply, then started to swim back, eager to return to my home where I knew I had people waiting.

Dripping wet as my roommates scolded me for being out so late, I couldn't find any reason to escape from their worried eyes. I stepped back into their embrace, closing my eyes and breathing freely for once as I smiled.

I realized that sometimes, when life felt overwhelming, I just needed to step back. Close my eyes. And breathe. Just not for the reasons I thought.