20 Breaths

I draped my sweat pants, shirt and towel on a rock, naked on the quiet beach.

It’s before dawn off the coast of Maine.

No human souls around me - but the ocean is alive

and there are other sounds - a lobster boat in the distance, with its own pre-dawn, disciplined practice,

a crow’s caw,

seaweed swaying in the gentle tide.

The ritual of almond oil massaged onto my limbs, trunk and face - with focused intention and care.

My leaves in a top pony.

Comfortable in the warm air - fanning away a buzzing mosquito in my ear.

The water is flat, black and neutral. Neither beckoning nor warning. It cares not if I enter. Nor if I don’t.

It’s there in its quietness.

The tide is low. Several gentle strides into the ocean and still, it’s only knee-deep.

At the start of the week, I walked into the flat, black water until it was deep enough to sit myself down and be still.

A bit of fear and shock, entering the unknown, counting out 20 slow breaths.

By the end of the week, I gently pushed off into the darkness - slowly frog-stroking away from shore,

stretching my arms and legs and moving through the darkness, into the unknown, now an ocean creature, through the cold, healing ,liquid,

for ten counts out,

turning,

and ten counts back.

Seaweed, salty, cold, quiet.

“Purify me. Clear me. Heal me,”

I prayed to the ocean energy.

As my hands broke through the water in the frog stroke,

the water sparkled - bioluminescent - sparkling blue magical lights.

Giddy as I dried off and put on my yoga clothes - adventuring solo

with quiet sounds, summer air and

Water magic. Magic water.

Feeling like a critter - alone in the dark waters.

The magic water washing away negative energies.

I came out cleansed - light, joyful, serene. warm.

Thank you magic water. Thank you water magic.

Maybe 30 breaths next year :)

sat nam, Love, Janet