He sits down in front of the keyboard on stage, and his words of goodness and love begin flowing through the speakers. I look around and question if coming was a good idea. The Rec Room is filled with students and staff- all intently listening to him. The band begins playing a familiar tune, and the room is suddenly filled with the unison of voices. I quickly realize how out of place I am. I stare blankly at the words on the screen, but no words leave my mouth. I begin to sweat and feel my chest tightening. My eyes scan the room frantically searching for an exit, and I conclude I have two options. The door in front of me means I must walk toward the stage in front of everyone before slipping out into the cool night air. The other is behind me around the corner- sadly it is blocked by a multitude of people with arms held high singing. Everything in me says to run, to get out of there as fast as I can, but I don't. Instead I'm only able to inch my way backwards. By this point, I can see the Spirit moving among the room. I watch as an outsider as those around me sing so passionately- something I can no longer wrap my mind around. The song changes and the pressure increases. Overwhelmed, I force myself to leave.
Swimming is a part of life- how can it not be when you are from Arizona, growing up on a river, and the pool business runs in the family. By far, my favorite has always been swimming in the ocean. You must willing submit control when entering the ocean. The tides can drag you into its vastness. You are at the mercy of sea creatures. You cannot tell a wave not to crash. You are powerless- and that intrigues me.
The sun was beating down making the water refreshing as I continued to stray further from the shore diving under wave after wave. Before long, I was unable to touch the ocean floor. I glanced back to the beach making sure I was directly in front of our chairs and towels- a technique I learned as a kid. When the tides would begin to pull me, I'd swim to shore, run along the beach to where our stuff was, and then head back into the water. If they were strong, I would run past our stuff to give myself more time to get pulled before having to swim back in.
I was preoccupied with handstands and flips when the first wave of the set came by surprise. I inhaled and dove down to the floor digging my toes in the sand determined to hold my ground. I felt the wave roll across my back and pass over me. It was as if I had gone undetected. I pushed myself to the surface and instantly felt the warm air against my face. I opened my eyes only to find another wave about to crash. Before I had time to catch my breath, it fell, pulling me down with it. The wave threw my body against the floor and violently tossed me in all directions. I no longer knew which way to swim. I felt my chest tighten informing me that I would soon need another breath of air. Although I knew in a few moments the sea would settle and I would surface, panic began creeping into my thoughts. This must be what drowning feels like.
Three nights later, goodness and love are echoing through the speakers again- this time from a man with a guitar. I'm cynical as I hear his words. I can feel the bass beating in my bones as the drummer begins to play. I'm again out of place. Overwhelmed and embarrassed, I begin taking small steps backwards until my calves are pressed against my chair leaving me with no where to go. Hot tears are slowly trickling down my cheeks when Sara's arm brushes against mine bringing me back into the reality that I'm not alone. The urge to run is tugging at me, but I stay- uncomfortably immersed in the community I have chosen to be apart of and know is best for me. We are dismissed, and I walk home in silence once again emotionally exhausted.
The sea will soon settle, and I will surface- I just have to hold my breath a little longer.
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