I sink into the water, my limbs surrender and the perfect temperature encapsulates every inch of my skin. The tiny grains beneath my feet allow me to grip on while the playful but forceful waves try hard to tug at me. I’m in awe of these vast waters, the same ocean, a different place. My eyes scan effortlessly, intrigued by the clarity that’s allowing me to see deep down to the sea bed. Just like my life I see it clearly. Sea life passes by me as if I’m non-existent and I find I have an immense liking for this solidarity.
The longer I float, I begin to analyze. There’s nothing but water and yet in a strange way It’s helping me unravel the complexities of life. I find I have little control here; if the waves became powerful the water would control me.
We all live with some kind of mania, some form of psychotic behavior. Not many of us want to admit to our flaws. It’s the murky waters that we find hard to step into and yet we expect someone to follow us into our pool that is anything but translucence.
It’s having control that gives us power. Having the ability to be able to shift a mind, even if it’s just a little. This small victory subconsciously results in an opportunity for reign. Those that depend on you have the ability to control you. They do it innocently. The subtle ways in which you give in because they matter more than you, they own that power.
At times I wanted to be controlled as much as I wanted to control. It was a false sense of trust and a small dose of manipulation. I mistook it for caring until I figured out control can also be a deadly weapon.
If I were to lose my grip and let the water take me away, it would dominate my life. I am nothing compared to the force around me and in this same way, I was once swayed by people. The jurisdiction over my mind caused havoc. It was these same waters I would have chosen to drown in, to get away from the emotional trauma.
It’s this very control that scares me now. The reason I grip harder and put up my guards and the reason I fail to pay attention to the noise around me. My past taught me how not to fall into a trap of influence. I observe and I walk away before an interaction even begins. I feel the energy now and I transcend from it. Self realization happens when your mood doesn’t shift and you follow your instinct.
As my own body shifts in the water and I, myself lose some control, I steady myself, entering into a realm of some kind of stoicism; I realize I also don’t want to control the world. I cannot control the world, only how I respond. Just as we can’t control nature, only how we respond to it. Being immersed here awakens me to the idea of drifting away and the fact that these waters could also leave me still and lifeless. I’ve felt that way before, sinking into nothingness and so I leave behind what isn’t serving me.
Control happens when you begin to give in to your desires and hand over your reigns. You grant permission and slowly begin to tolerate the suffering.
I’ve mistaken control with feeling safe. One makes you feel so managed that letting go enacts a kind of disintegration. When in fact, being protected is an entirely different chapter. For fear of losing we’d rather be controlled. We become accustomed to comfort of a kind and venturing out of that zone is anything but comfortable.
As I turn to gaze at the horizon, no obstruction lies in our path. All I see is the sky and the sea and the fine line where we are seduced into believing they meet. It’s an illusion, a make believe scene. Just like the many tales we are made to believe. Then there are stories we make up in our heads to satisfy that side of us that is restrained or the side that wants to believe in a dream.
As I lose the grip from beneath my feet I use my ability to swim into the direction of a less controlled force.
Not one person on this earth is so high that gives them a right to look down on me. Not one person walks this earth without a flaw. So that supremacy belongs to no one. Control happens when we allow it. Not one person on this earth has the right to direct your mind and so I rethink the situations and the conversations and perhaps I overthink.
I make it to shore and as I leave the deep sea, I feel my weight shift. It takes me a minute to become accustomed to gravity and don’t we all for sometime feel uneasy. As I turn around and face the horizon the discomfort wears off. It’s that fine line that taught me freedom prevails. I walk away, feeling liberated, unapologetic and uncontrolled.