In fulfilling my usual routine in swimming early morning laps, I made my splash down. Awesome! The pond was full of aquamarines. I felt a bit like squeezing into a new, size small Mossimo blazer from Targe’t. Most of us in the practice of accomodating. Then two guys showed up and swam on each side of me. Not so much unnerving as it was a bit flattering, because next to Kirt Goodman, I am the fastest swimmer with the best endurance. The sheriff’s deputy on my left, the father of one of last year’s students; the guy on the right, a highway patrolman. I was in the zone and as is condusive to me, I set to a serious mile workout at at and equally serious pace.
In less than hour, finishing ahead of schedule, I ventured through my base-ten Abacus Nmeumonic to Narnia, doing my best to follow the straight black line. This was not bad…until the men on both sides started churning up the water. I couldn’ help but think…”What is the message in this…these two police officers having me surrounded.” Perhaps to remind me to comply to eating vegetables. To hold to the rod. Maybe to pull my head out of prideful ways. A sublimenal surveylance.
No need. Already I wear a tracking device on my wrist, just in self inflicting guilt and judgement. Couldn’t help but think about staying on the line, or swim between the two lines, or to avoid certain head ons, serpentining when needed. Realizing the path and the mode of travel important.
I see metaphores everywhere. Maybe it just means that I should be safe at school and in life. To do no harm. And in doing so, I can be gentler with myself and others. Yes. I think so. Or maybe it’s just two guys swimming. Or maybe I should quit seeing metaphors.