Bobbing, rolling, feeling the warm water weave its way around my body.
It is Friday afternoon and I am placidly plopped in the middle of the kids section at the public pool in the Canberra International Sports and Aquatic Centre (CISAC). This time is precious, precarious, potentially dangerous. How I am managing to kill two hours is beyond me. But it is blissful. I cannot recall the last time I had time out for myself, just being, not doing. It is true happiness. And needed.
Mr. A had suggested that I attend the pool for the afternoon, for some water therapy. Water represents healing across many facets, from the obvious physical washing, to the more figurative emotional cleansing from the sound and aura of water. I know that when I hear water dribbling, dropping, dripping it can bring a sense of peace. Even in the midst of a very public place such as the pools.
A kid jumps in the pool next to my attempts at back floating, splashing water over my face. I am glad that I packed the goggles and my swimming cap. This corner that I have located amidst the bustle in the water on this hot late summer afternoon is a true find. Clearing my mind from the need to care for another person. The desire to clean all the things. The requirement of cleaning shit from the sheet that now covers our lounge room because of Master X’s epic and bleeding mess of a nappy rash.
This time is mine. And the water is working its magic, weaving, waving and wearing down my anxiety. Washing it away to the drains. The bubbles from the spa provoke thoughts of green fields as I admire the scene of turmoil around me. Practicing mindfulness amongst the business. Appreciating the time. Me time. Water therapy time.