Sunday, January 1, 2012

I am the Pretty-pretty Mermaid

I had a few days off from work this past week. I went to the Long Beach aquarium with BFF Kathy and her children. Kathy and I realized it had been six years since we had last visited the aquarium. Her youngest, now seven, had crawled around the outdoor play area in his diapers last time. "Squirt the baby!" young children had yelled while he splashed about in the small puddles. Kathy said his diaper had inflated to full size, being super absorbent (with no wings, however).

We arrived early, not finding any of the freeway traffic we had anticipated. While waiting for other friends to arrive, we ran across the street to Pike Place and looked at the holiday decorations. Naturally, there was an ocean theme infused among the green and blue Christmas trees. The clam shells were big enough for a 7-year-old to crawl in. Kathy's camera clicked away as her kids sat in one of the boats. Almost instinctively, I perched myself upon the bow of the tiny ship and struck what I hoped was the beautiful pose of a carved, wooden mermaid. I think it worked. You decide.

In my mind, I am a mermaid while I listen to Madonna's song, "Swim," if only symbolically. It is a song of meditation for me, of baptism, and of death and renewal:

I can't carry these sins on my back, don't want to carry any more
I'm going to carry this train off the track, I'm going to swim to the ocean floor
Crash to the other shore . . .

I envision pushing off my old self, shuffling off my mortal coil, at least from the waist down, liberating a deep lilac, shining lavender tail to swim toward a newer version of myself, toward more of the life that I want to live.

2011 was a good year, but I want to work on pushing past some of my old self, and morphing toward reaching my goals, swimming closer to accomplishment, including my writing goals.

I have a good life. I am safe. I am free. Sometimes I forget to focus on those facts, but I am always grateful when I remember them.

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