I didn’t realise just how much I utilised symbolism in how I relate to and write about my feelings and experiences until now. Water is a recurrent theme in my thoughts and writing. It is clearly a symbol of my emotions – deep or shallow, capable of swallowing me up or carrying me to great heights or far away places. It can be gentle or unrelenting and fierce. It is something that is separate to me, something I have no control over, something that happens to me. It’s a force not to be trifled with. I can jump in feet first, or try to swim and fight. Either way, I am at it’s whim.
I’ve been crushed by it’s weight. I’ve been the one that’s allowed it to crush me more than it may have if I’d fought when I could. I’ve been the one that’s kept one foot out when it was warm and soft and when I could have jumped in safely.
I’ve decided that if my emotions are like water, then it never really affects me in a lasting way. A wave might crash against my back, again and again and it may move me from where I stood once before, but I will be dry again at some point. The waves will become droplets, and the water I’m standing in, may just become a puddle. If not ever dry again, at least no struggle against it’s movements.
I’m buoyant now, in the ocean that I find myself in currently. It caresses, it’s immersive, it’s warm and loving. I don’t know yet whether I’m with someone in this, (four feet in!), but I know I can swim. I’ve been moved by waves before and I will be again. That’s clear.