Deep

We were a beach family. For most of my childhood, we lived no more than two hours from the ocean and we always went to the beach for our vacations. I've swum in the: Atlantic Ocean, Pacific Ocean, and Gulf of Mexico. I've swum in calm and rough waters, including 20-foot waves in Hawaii.

My dad is the one who taught me to swim in the ocean. (Mom loved the beach as much as he did, but she would get herself wet and then go sit in a chair and read.) I learned how to detect the presence of a dangerous undertow or a rip tide. He taught me to establish a point on the sand and check every few minutes to see if the current was pulling me further out or along the shoreline. Most of these lessons took place as we were dealing with the waves.

The main trick to swimming in the ocean is to get past the breakers. Those are the waves that crash at/close to the shoreline. They're the waves that will knock you down, spin you around, and put a gallon of sand in your swimsuit. Navigating the breakers can be dangerous, exhausting and frustrating. You're in survival mode, and once you get far enough from the shore, there's no easy way out.

The ocean is much more fun when you get past the breakers. Although you still need to be aware, you're not in survival mode anymore. Beyond the breakers, the waves come further apart and you can see them coming. You have a chance to rest, to bob up and down in the water or dive to the bottom. When the waves come, you can meet them head-on and dive into them. It's glorious fun.

But first, you have to get beyond the breakers.

For the past three and a half years, I've been battling the breakers. I've been in survival mode.

In 2016, there was the cross-country move from Virginia to Idaho, which included: selling one house, buying another house, six weeks of solo parenting, and a five-day road trip with a two children and an 80 lb dog. Both James and I started new jobs.

In September 2017, my dad died from a massive brain bleed 24 hours after falling in the driveway.

Those two events were "knock you down, spin you around, and put a gallon of sand in your swimsuit" waves. There have been lots of smaller, yet still significant, "waves" in the past few years. I'd gotten worn down in both body and spirit, discouraged from being in constant survival mode. My normal self-care measures were keeping me alive, but I wasn't thriving.

In the past few days, I've finally made it past the breakers of life for the first time in ages. I feel like I'm in deeper, calmer water. I'm beginning to feel joy and contentment again. It's a wonderful, gratifying feeling.

There will be other waves, even "knock you down, spin you around, and put a gallon of sand in your swimsuit" waves. I'll deal with them when they come. But for now, I'm going to enjoy the ocean.