Keep swimming

Hi gang.

I’ve been away from this blog for some time.

For the last few weeks I’ve stopped thinking of myself as a writer. It’s more hideous than that actually. I have stopped thinking of myself. I’ve gone without sleep for no logical reason. I’ve stopped eating much. I’ve only exercised once. And I’ve stopped writing.

Every day we have a choice to drift or swim. I’ve been drifting, letting life take me along. Letting the current take me places I never planned to go.

Have you ever found yourself in a rip tide? I did. Nearly drowned. I fought it, swimming as hard as I could for as long as I could. But I was only managing to not lose ground – I was not gaining any ground.

The beach was only a few yards away. I could see children playing in the shallows and people tanning on the beach. But I couldn’t get to them. I was exhausted. My muscles ached. I could hardly breath.

Then I felt myself being pulled backwards into a troff and turned to see a big wave crashing down on me. This was a good thing. It caught me just right and shot me to shore.

I could have stopped fighting that day and given up. I could have drifted.

Of course I would have wound up on some beach in Japan; not as a tourist, but as a log.

By the way, if you want to carry this metaphor further, I was swimming hard but not smart. You don’t fight a rip tide head on. You swim across it and then angle towards the shore. In life, even if you’re putting your heart into it, you have to swim smart.

Starting now, today, I plan to swim smart and I plan to not drift.

I’ve had no excuse. Leuk has been a silent partner lately. Other than my capricious visitor, I’ve been feeling fine. I haven’t even been fighting a rip tide. I’ve just been blankly drifting.

To my CLL readers, it’s okay to take a day off and just float. But don’t let yoursef give up and drift through life. You, more than others, know your time on this planet is precious.

Don’t waste it away. Keep swimming.

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2 Responses

  1. Jan says:

    “Don’t waste it away. Keep swimming.” Thanks, Jim. I’ve missed you but know you’ll be back. I like this connection with you, which is better than we’ve done for years.