Learning to Float

A splash, a kick, and a cough. As my head breached the surface of the water, air-filled my lungs once again. Frustrated, I smacked my hands against the water. This primarily resulted in splashing water all over my face. Feeling as though the ocean had won again tonight, I slowly waded my way back to the shore and sat down on my towel just slightly above where the waves stopped.

The towel, which had been there for a while, felt cool against my wet body making it feel that much colder. Tucking my legs up to my chest, I wrapped my arms around them and looked out over the ocean. Looking straight ahead, it almost felt as if I could feel the darkness staring back with the waves and night sky almost blending seamlessly together, except for the crescent moon reflecting every so often. With a slight glance to the left, I could see the parts of town in the distance. It was nearly dark there except for the few street and traffic lights that stayed on all night. This late at night though, the rest of the town was quiet, with its residents at home for the night and at varying levels of sleep. We were a small town near the ocean with our main draw being the beach, and the pier that jutted out over it to my right; however, it was nearing fall and any tourists that our town received had already gone home. As a result, right now, it is dark and quiet, just me and the ocean.

Pulling the towel closer to my side, my index finger begins to trace circles in the sand. My vision goes out of focus as I relax my eyes and let my mind begin to wander. And wander it does back to earlier in the year when the sun was hot, the air was humid, and my friends from high school were all visiting for the Fourth of July. While the festivities at the time were nice, it was the conversations that I had with them that stuck with me.

We had used the evening to catch up. For them, it was the first time back in town for a while, whether it be from their college or a promising career; however, for me, it was just another night in town. When the chance had come years before for us to take steps and forge our own paths, they made the right calls and started moving forward while I stumbled and stayed in place. That evening had been a lot for me to handle with one too many forced smiles being the theme of the night for me. Likewise, it led to this nightly tradition I have now where I come out and attempt to finally learn to float on my back. It was something that I struggled with as a child to learn, and as time went by, it was something I learned to fake my way around.

It's silly, but I think it more than just learning this. I think in some goofed-up way I believe that if I can finally learn to do this, if I can finally break out of the mold I have been in for the last few years, that I can start to move forward and take steps to set out on my own as well. So, for the last one-hundred and ten days, I have come out here, tried, and failed. Tonight marks the one-hundred and eleventh night, and more than likely, one of my last shots before the weather shifts and the water at night becomes too cold for this.

I don’t want to give up. I want to succeed. But success is hard, especially when I do not want to ask for help. I have been like that my entire life. I have always wanted to try and do things on my own without asking for help or getting support. My mindset was that doing things by myself would make sure I always did things how I wanted; however, that also meant that when I failed, I had no one to blame but myself. Hence why when I stumbled, I stopped.

Refocusing my eyes and glancing down where my finger had been tracing, I realized the hole I had dug.

My mindset has started to change though. I don’t want to keep falling behind. I want to take steps forward. In the one-hundred and ten days since that night, I have thought about it every night, and only recently have I started to focus on parts of that night other than how I felt. When I focus on my friends, their experience, and the stories they told, they had a common factor, and that factor was support. Even if it were small, they all mentioned someone or something that was helping them to push forward when they couldn’t or didn’t know-how. So maybe, one-hundred and eleven days is long enough for the realization to settle in.

Standing up, I begin towards the water for one more try. Instead of looking at the water like it is my enemy in this endeavor, I try to look at it as my support.

I look at it like it is a friend offering a hand when I fall. I look at it like a teacher offering study sessions before an exam. I look at it like a parent offering their finances to help with school.

And for the first time, I look at it as support. I don’t kick. I don’t fight. I just lean into it.

And my view shifts.

Instead of staring at the bleak horizon of dulls grays and the quiet of town, I’m looking up. I see that the sky is more than just that crescent moon. It is a full sea of stars. It is a universe of possibilities. And that universe was as simple as leaning into support. It was as simple as learning to float.