Water Obsession

It's getting addictive- water.

photo credit- HOM

The swim on Saturday night gave me such a confidence boost.  Week 5, post-surgery, I can surely do, more!

So I went back to the pool in the morning,

warmed my arm up, sent Humpty Dumpty away.

Because I swam, I was able to engage both my arms to conquer housework.

I then got Angel to help me with strengthening/bending exercises.

Stroking:  bend-straighten-bend with my arm that used to scare, scare me.

In the evening, I could not resist, being lured back.

Baby?  Are you really wearing your shower cap to swim?

Yes.

(I know I can frustrate Jon.  But most often, I make him laugh.)

In the water, I think of, Gaspard de la Nuit.  It's a gorgeous piece of music composed by Ravel for solo piano.  I once made a dance to it.  The dance was called, Rain.

I think Ondine is the first movement in the piece.  The music sounds like water rippling. If I'm remembering correctly, there is heartbreak; but if you listen carefully, there is also hope.

It's crazy difficult trying to swim in a co-ordinated fashion.  Most of the time, for now, I am really trying to not drown.  I am trying to move the arm within the frame of a correct breaststroke.  I think of my therapist's shaking his head two days ago, because although he can force my arm to bend beyond 90 degrees now, I still can't no matter how hard I try, increase that necessary flexion on my own.

I like to think, there is something poetic, even in the wounded.  I think I understand Ravel so much better than when I first encountered him.  

I think the physical struggle is an expression of XYZ.  There has been encouragement/response from readers, from friends.  For everyone who has patiently followed my blog, thank you for your time.  I hope that my journey inspires you to celebrate human folly and courage.  I like to think that if we dare allow ourselves to be honestly vulnerable, we just might discover that in the darkest of waters, that broken self also holds the heroism needed, to surge afloat.