I’m not even a swmmer.
I can do a front stroke thingy, and I can do a backstroke, and a crawl. And I do that 18 times for a half a mile. And somehow, it calms me.
Because in a week where I felt some solid ground, the cracks and the fissures I had ignored started to get my attention.
I’m highly anxious this morning. So, I will take my medicine one lap at a time.
I’m not a swimmer.