Friday, March 17, 2017

Buoyed by bubbles

This is the YMCA Chinatown pool.
Divine serenity. Photo by Judith Parsons 2017


Last night I swam 36 laps in an hour. 
A mile swimming in my watery world. For a 56 year old, I think it is a huge deal. Though, as I met more of the swimmers who joined me in the YMCA swim-a-thon, I realized there are many older wiser folks giving their body the time it needs to become stronger as we age.

We are not our grandmothers or grandfathers. I remember my grandmother at 60 years old. I remember her posture and how she started curving in upon herself. Like a flower drooping as its blossom aged. We do that, aging is a natural process, I am not advocating becoming a gym fitness nut. However, I believe one ought to integrate activity into ones life. (Though, truth be told - it has taken me 56 years upon this earth to REALLY live it.)

I grew up with a sister who ran, (waving). She was committed to running. I need to ask her what drove her to run everyday. Did she run to quiet the noise of worries in her life? Did she run because she liked the sound of her heart beat in her ears? 

Every blue moon I would try to run with her and keep up. I was a horrible runner. I can remember running in the cold months, and I never got used to the way my nostrils burned as the cold air stung upon each inhalation. My side ached and I was miserable. The point of this paragraph is, I admired Lynn for her determination. Her discipline always amazed me. I love disciplined people!

Swimming was the activity that gave me self-confidence. That helped me become self-disciplined. I worked at the YMCA in Virginia Beach, there was a couple of adults that wanted to learn to swim. They wanted to scuba dive on their vacations, so they came to me to help them learn to swim. The couple learned to swim and then we all started swimming laps together. I remember, their enthusiasm as they became lap swimmers. Their confidence, their trust in me as their instructor, helped us all fall in love with swimming. 

When I was younger I would swim to exhaust myself. Then, my husband was away with his job. The water and those students became my best friends. The bubbles that slide off my fingertips became my meditation.

Last night, while I was swimming those laps, I was humming hymns I grew up with in my mind. “Holy, holy, holy” was one of them and “Amazing grace” another. The idea that thought can change water molecules was worth a try, since 90% of our bodies are water, and I was immersed in water, I figured it couldn’t hurt to try. This morning I awakened feeling stronger and better. As I was walking up my stairs last night after the swim, I thought about baptism, and the whole water connect to God thing. I thanked God for my wonderful strong body, for helping me swim constantly for an hour. The water healed me.
Thought can change us.

I got into the rhythm of the water — my old friend, the bubbles slid off my fingertips. I was home, in my watery world. Buoyed by my love!! 

Life is amazing! Expect miracles! Swimming, shining, smiling, and singing beside you!

I need to get moving…a special soul is flying in to town…Much Love!





Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Angels

Photograph by Louis McNally 2017
We are all more connected than we know. If you have heard me say it once, then you’ve heard me say it a million times. I believe in the messages God gives us. 
Today the message was the messenger. The hawk is the messenger from “Medicine Cards” by Sans and Carson.

Louis McNally took this incredible photograph of the hawk. I played around with it in Illustrator and photoshop enough to leave it as its original photograph. I present to you the messenger.

The messenger flies between heaven and earth, the angel of lessons for us to learn. 
The lesson of love is the hardest to learn. A family member passed yesterday. He was always smiling. I remember him as a strong young man, our families spent summers together. He taught my sisters and brothers how to ski. He was a blast to be with always grinning and happy!

There was one amazing memory that happened on summer. I was watching him get upon his skis and stand up, when a huge 25 foot wide sting-a-ray burst out of the water between the boat and his skis. Both of our mouths dropped opened and our jaws were upon our chest. I am still amazed he help upon the ski rope. To this day I think of that as our memory. “Like, holy moly did you just see that?”


Louis took the photograph of an angel messenger. Thank you for reminding us of angels.