Split-Tale Sea | Part 4

(Three months later…)

This is the final poem of Split-Tale Sea. I started this project for a number of reasons, but the main one was the effect that water has on my (lacking a more universally received word) spirit. Water makes me feel more like a human. Quieted. Calmed. But also, buoyant. Alive. Here.

IMG_1359

And I’m not alone in this: both scientific study and anecdote alike reveal, over and over, that water has this soothing, renewing effect in general. (Disclaimer being, probably not for anyone who’s afraid of it, but then again, oh my, what if that fear were overcome?!)

Thus, much of the whys are documented.

The whats, perhaps less so.

By whats, I simply mean: what can be done with this feeling? What Source first summoned the water to arise, and how can we seek more of its settling energy? What can one possibly bring into this world with the live-giving and healing that water gives?

Just days ago, being on the water brought me back to myself once again. And maybe that could serve as one answer (of many possible answers) to those questions: that is, what the water can prompt in us is as simple as a reminder.

To learn to live and be, mostly,

but also, I suppose, to

Float

*

Split-Tale Sea: Part 1 | Part 2Part 3

To survive

Hello; is anyone still out there? (echoes into the ether)

This space is in dire need of a refresh, isn’t itso let’s get moving. No time to waste.

Back in May (how far back it feels), I left a story here about running. About my own evolving relationship with it, my questions about why we do it at all, and, in the simplest sense, a trail race. Concluded, closed, done. Box, meet check.

Right?

Perhaps not.

Occasionally, lately, I’ve still been pondering this conundrum of health-seeking in this as well as other spheres. Meaning, not only exercise, but also food, psychological and spiritual practices, relationships, and work habits. After recently exploring this with a friend on her blog, I still am left with the question of why so many people, mostly in the U.S., go to such lengths for so-called ultimate or perfect health.

One easier answer is this: that, on a certain level, we possess a simple desire to be well, to feel good, and to take care of the gift that is the body. It is the soul’s sole vehicle for navigating this world, after all.

Another possibility, more difficult, is this: that, perhaps, we must cope with that age-old problem of mortality somehow. That problem of not just navigating this world, but of how to actually do that. And of course, this past week (or these past months) (or this past year) (or years), this has become that much more potent; when so much is senseless, including how we live and die, running and walking and eating and stretching and so onthey are simple and they make sense.

All that in mind, it is interesting how, sometimes, this cultural concern with health can become borderline religious. Not necessarily surprising—nor is it an outright good or bad thing. Rather, it’s a curious thing, and has the potential to go in dangerous directions as well as beneficial ones.

But of course, it’s only one side of an enormous subject, and there are so many other reasons for being concerned about one’s wellbeing. So the question remains unanswered, which is frankly how I like most questions anyway.

And all of that aside, this long preamble is for an idea that might better be represented elsehow. Thus:

“To Survive: a docupoem”