Oceans and seas

In days of summer all kids in my grandparents’ village used to play in the river – jumping from rocks, swimming up and downstream. A fascinating view. I was too horrified to be a part of it, though.

“Don’t be afraid of the water!” everyone said. “You have to learn to swim, it’s too much fun!” And I nodded every time. Of course they were right.

Summers were long, back then. Too long, maybe. Long enough for me to get tired of being reminded of obvious facts.

I was trying to overcome my fears. I spent so much time doing this that the shame of not being successful at something everyone managed to do and that I wanted really badly became an issue. I started avoiding those familiar conversations in any way possible.

One day a kid that had just come to our village approached me at the riverbank.

“Are you afraid of the water?” he asked.

Here it goes, I thought, and mumbled something, looking around for an escape opportunity.

“You really should learn to swim!”

I was already getting up, “You know, I have to go” ready at my lips.

“Come, I’ll teach you!” was something I’d never heard before that made me stop in confusion.

It wasn’t easy. It didn’t have to be. There were obstacles but I still recall what followed - the blue sky and the sunlight in my eyes while I lay in the water, the magic underwater sound and the hand beneath my head, ready to lift me up if I sunk down.

I’ve swum in rivers. I’ve swum in oceans and seas. I’ve dived in deep, deep waters and sailed over high, high waves. I guess I’ll always be thankful to those fingers that pointed out my flaws. But I know I’ll never forget the hands that helped me overcome them.