Trying Out For Colby Water Polo

i was an athlete, six feet, maybe 190, kinda husky, remembered water polo in high school, we played in five feet of water, i liked pushing guys around, throwing the ball into the net, polk, you should come out and play with us, the colby captain said to me one night, yeah, i thought, i can play division III water polo, the first practice was two days later, i borrowed a speedo and headed down to the pool, ok fellas, we will start with 20 laps, at this moment i should have walked away, i had never swam more than a couple laps in my life, but i was too embarrassed, so i got in, labored through 7 exhausting laps, then quietly exited the water, went to the locker room, put on my clothes, and pretended the whole thing never happened.

Swimming As Meditation

i’m experienced in walking meditation. one step slowly in front of another, ball of foot, then toes, and finally the heel, like a dog carefully touching december’s first snow. the point of walking meditation is to go nowhere, except within, and this can happen while breathing each breath, one inhale, one exhale. in the pool where i paddle pushing water with palms and legs and arms, maple leaves glide near me on the surface where i pretend to walk in deep water, treading instead. i sometimes pray, that my back heals, that i can be kinder, that i will live without fear. with glances i watch the trees, today it was a pileated woodpecker, the birds know more than i, about when to move quickly and when to just sit and wait. my quick days are over, the waiting days are here, breathe in, breathe out.