Abby

I had imagined it might be a bit terrifying and uncomfortable and also thrilling and exhilarating. It was. What I hadn’t been able to imagine was that it would be spiritual. At that quiet hour, the water a muted pewter green, the bridge and the day ahead at a distance, a channel changed, a fire lit. I am wild and spiritual and strong. I can surprise myself. Still. There is no turning back.

It’s been three seasons since that first morning in the water, since I stepped through that portal and found on the other side a practice, a congregation, an anchor. The lessons emerge like the resolve that keeps me returning to the water. I don’t have to look for them. Mostly, I just go. I get in. I stay in.