the archaic process of printing baseball tickets.

i went swimming the other night for the first time in a while. i signed up for a half-marathon & i am trying again. i swim sometimes because it is good for me, but also because it feels wonderful. the fluidity of water feels almost blissful against your skin. almost magic. almost home. i do not understand it, but i love it. there was only one other swimmer at the pool and if my memory serves, his name is patrick. he is blind & deaf. he is astounding to me. he has an interpreter who helps him in class. he puts his hand to her hands and reads every nuanced movement. he is astounding. between leisure laps, i listened to the quiet pool. the life guard was studying so there wasn't any music playing. patrick swam 2 lanes down & i just watched, because i am fortunate enough to do that. i dont know much about swimming, but i know that lines are important. your strokes should keep you in a line, utilizing your own energy to provide the best possible output. the more crooked your path & the less rhythmically in-tune your stroke, the slower & more labored your lap. so i watched this helen-keller-esque 20 year old swim. with perfect lines. and perfect rhythm. no stroke out of place.

he is blind & deaf. 

i think he has maybe slight hearing, or a sliver of vision. enough for someone to argue, "oh well he's not really.." as if it is any less impressive. the kid cant see or hear, and can swim in a straight line.

i wondered for a while how he does it. maybe he can see a little bit & can manage the thick black line across the floor of the pool. maybe he can hear the water lapping the lane ropes, or the gutter. maybe. but i bet he can just feel it. logan used to comment that i shouldve tried swimming when i was younger because i can feel how my stroke should look without anyone saying anything. i can feel the water when im swimming poorly, and my strokes are no longer aligned. i can feel it when im not swimming clean. so i tried swimming with my eyes closed.

 i hit the lane rope in 3 strokes.

i tried to visualize swimming in a straight line, utilizing prophetic muscle memory. i mirrored strokes to keep my form locked & my core strong. not any more successful. 

patrick blind and deaf. he cant see when he's moving crooked. but he can feel it. the guy cant hear & cant see, but he can swim. he is astounding. he has minimal external data to wield his life. at first, i thought how terrifying it might be. and maybe it is, i do not know. but how incredible is patrick. and how resilient. how many times did he have to get in the pool with someone to learn how to swim. how many times did he hit his head on the wall? how exhilarating was it when he kicked off the first time? did it feel like flying? were the topical nerves in his skin going ballistic with joy? was it freedom? i think so. 

i like to start from the block because it is fastest i can move. i am a half decent swimmer, but i cant crank out race speeds. i can jump though. i can throw myself pretty far. for the half second before i hit the water, i am alive. it doesnt stop when i break the surface. i wear my hair down when i swim sometimes because the water gives you that perpetual state of wind blown hair. assuming you can swim for that long of course. before logan & i broke up, he taught me how to utilize the dolphin kick. i enjoyed calling it the pelvic thrust but i guess thats not the technical term. i can fly for 20 yards, give or take. i dont have to break the surface till then because my lungs are clean & full. 

i wonder if that is why patrick swims. because the freedom was worth the fight. getting back up was worth the fall. he cant really listen with his ears, but i bet his skin could tell a hundred stories with what it knows. i bet swimming between the world of breathing & not is incredible because for him, there is no repetitive black line. there are no flags to mark the final breath. the concrete at the bottom adds nothing to the monotony, because for him there is no monotony. there is familiarity. there is feeling the water move over & around your skin. there is a splash from each stroke. try to imagine swimming in general, and try to imagine it without sight or sound.

it is freedom. it is bliss. it is magic. it is home.