A Hundred Days of Water
A fluid attempt to weave water into huggable shapes
Yesterday was the first day of the annual #100daysofbluemind and the first year without
kicking it off, which of course is sad. We all would love him to be here, none more than his beautiful wife and children, I am sure. But J was not about sadness, he was about WATER. And all the feelings. The joy, the grief and everything in between.
No stranger to pain and sorrow, he dedicated his life to healing through water.
And that too is how I navigate this thing called life. Through fluidity and watery things. Admittedly, and you who follow me know this, I am a tad Sea obsessed. I do get the hots for a salty flake on drying skin, but I am learning, learning to appreciate freshwater too. Not that I am game for swimming in the rivers around this landlocked place I call home at the moment, I am not crazy, sewage might be liquified but there is no way I am diving into any rivers in England. Perhaps Scotland is better at preserving their streams, I don’t know, but around here - #hardpass
Water is about life and healing, sometimes even curing, but sewage rivers are neither. Sitting by them, watching the flow can be very soothing though, if I can stop myself from thinking too much. (Insert laughter here).
Throughout my life the only constant has been water. My first therapy session was in water, swimming wild seas as a child while teen siblings fought with frustrated parents. The 70ies, complicated times. A lot of freedom, yes, but also a lot of breaking with traditions and authoritarian ways. Being so much younger, I was given all the freedom and just minded my own business By the time I was a teen, my parents were well worn down and let me do… well, anything.
Interrail with much older boyfriend at 16 - ‘When will you be back?’, starting the pill at 15 ‘Remember to take it at the same time every day.’ Pregnant at 19, ‘Dad - I hope it is a girl!’ (It was) ‘Mum - you know abortions are great too.’ (I chose not to - I’d already taken care of my nephew from when he was six weeks until he was six months, I loved babies. How hard could it be? (Answer: fxcking hard, ha ha ha. especially with a premature cholic baby, but hey, I do not regret a thing. Not a thing.) My baby’s father was a dead hot Swiss French aspiring poet and I was naive AF. Perhaps an 18-year-old reading Baudelaire, sipping wine and smoking the pipe is not really the ideal grounded, stable sort of baby daddy material, but he was just what I needed then, and did I mention dead hot!? ;-) Ha ha I didn’t force him, though, don’t worry. Gave him the choice, come to DK and join us or stay in La Suisse and see us when you can. We had some great years. None of them in Switzerland - because = NO SEA and the Lac Leman (Lake Geneva) is beautiful, but it is not salty, and at that point I just couldn’t. … I knew I couldn’t. And frankly, his parents straight up hated me. A working-class welder dad and an outspoken Danish girl were not what they had in mind for their beautiful son. I probably didn’t make it easy for them either. We were so young. I was incredibly not Swiss and my French was good, but not THAT good.
… But more importantly, Baudelaire-sexy desperately wanted a new life, away from the rigidity of Swiss routines and for all its flaws, Denmark is great for that, for change, fluidity and openness to new adventures. We had another baby, a few degrees and diplomas and then we parted ways. He still lives in Denmark with his gorgeous wife and a house by the fjords… and I, against all odds - I am stuck between rivers deep in the Dales - with the love of my life, admittedly, and my Mr Right is bloody gorgeous too so - definitely worth a lot of sacrifices, and I do have water near, but
BUT WHERE IS THE SEA?
Well,
it is in me
the sea is in me
with every drop I hear the call
the echo and the spell
well,
of water rushing deep then dry
every drop a bell
a summoning
of soul
Well,
it is in me
the water in roars and lulls
whispers close as broken skin
to this sea within within within
I am fluid
I am whole
I weave waters and I fold every
freckle every feeling into pleats
soul and words
water and wishes
it all
a hundred days of water
a hundred lifetimes of love
#sussithepoet
#bluemind
#100daysofwater
#100daysofbluemind
#waterawareness
Oh wow! What a beautiful collection of words! Love the idea that the sea is within even if we cannot be beside it. Thank you for sharing so openly your heart and your story.