I was just now writing a story. It was a true story of how my organs knot up in cinematic terror when I stand at the edge of the black-green river on a hot summer day. Just summer - when the possibility that I might end up in that water in very short order to cool off is real. How strange it is for me to feel terror and overwhelming gratitude at the same time when I stand before the beauty of this part of nature. The conflict is surreal. When I'm out in the middle, feet kicking the syrupy wet, my mind implodes with the certainty that the creature living below has been waiting for me. Waiting to shudder the silt from it's scales and rocket to where I am in 6...5...4...3...2...1 feet and SNAP! I'm a goner.
I stopped writing the story in case I'm ever among company standing at the edge of the river and everyone is as afraid as I to go in the water. If in that moment they are all looking for someone to be brave because that creature needs to be called forth from the depths and wrestled to the death, I want the people to think I would do it. Because I would. If I had to and I wouldn't even let my mind go where it goes when I'm just standing there in the summer with no real imminent danger. I'm still trying to figure that contradiction in me out because let me tell you...if I have to, I'll drag your broken body from the train wreckage and deliver your baby without batting and eye. If you're loosing your mind, I'll take you by the shoulders and tell you with a steel gaze to "listen. to. me. You. Are. Going. To. Be. Fine.". If you're shaking and sobbing and everyone around you is running circles with their heads cut off and wings flapping about, I'll drag you out of there and spray you off with the hose and then sit there in the sun with you quietly until the sobbing stops. I'd do that. I would. Because there is a big part of me that will not let the ship sink if it comes to that. In the meantime, I leave the underwater dreams to the people who won't wet the bed at the sight of a big fish coming towards her.
I'm not sure where all this comes from. But. Yeah.
Me too. I like to think that it's because I'm strong AND resilient. Likely it has more to do with an irrepressible compunction to be the one "in control". And definitely more than likely the former is better than the latter where "character" is concerned.
But. Yah. ;)
[hmmm. 3 posts. 3 comments. I'm on a roll!]
Posted by: Jen Worden | February 13, 2012 at 05:26 AM
I think we all have these contradictions in our lives...but I think yours stems back to one thing...watching Jaws as a child!!!! I'm still not over it! Oh...maybe that's my issue then....hmmmmmmm....
Posted by: Emily | February 13, 2012 at 07:55 AM
i.don't.swim. i don't like to be in the water and can't stand the shower spraying on my face! i think i am drowning. xo
Posted by: carlanda williamson | February 13, 2012 at 10:24 AM
smiling and shaking my head in total understanding
Posted by: Cathy | February 13, 2012 at 12:59 PM
Oh golly, I am not the only one convinced that something is going to grab her from under the water and pull her down. And I won't go on a ship either for the same reason. Although I am the first one to try and prevent the ship from sinking...or saving someone, etc. I have a big need to be needed.
Posted by: christina | February 14, 2012 at 01:05 AM