I went into the water (anyway)

It was very cold, immediately sending a spike of alarm signals up my neural system. It was still early in the day and, if only I waited a little longer, the water would be much warmer. The sun had not even risen from behind the hills yet. yet. But I went into the water anyway.

No one else agreed to join me. It was a crazy idea, two days before Christmas, as cold as it ever got on this island in the Mediterranean Sea. I wasn’t even going to swim per se. I was actually a little hungry. I was craving an early lunch. But I went into the water anyway.

There were countless pebbles and sharp rocks underfoot. Shells too, some broken. The sand was soft, but I had to be careful with every step. Luckily the water was so clear that I could see where my feet landed. Every step sent fresh chills up and down my body. As the water rose from ankles to knees to waist, I took every step with gritted teeth and muttered curses. I could have turned around. No one was watching. But I went into the water anyway.

Too often, I find myself a spectator to the things I want to do, to the ways I want to be. I sit, safe at the edge, watching and musing, reflecting and pining, doing all the things that are not-doing. I went into the water to defeat the over-thinker and do a thing simply because I thought I should.

It was a little, insignificant thing. Besides me, there were a couple of elderly ladies, packing away their clothes and preparing to enter. I could hear their voices in the morning air. There was a man in the water, swimming confident strokes. There were a couple of younger girlfriends, laying out a beach towel to lie in the soon-to-appear sun. A dog scampered across the beach, the owner trailing after. It was a little, insignificant thing to be part of this world, the tourist going into the water on a cold December morning.

Why did I go into the water every morning that week? What good did it do? Like all tiny, insignificant things, it has no answer. All I know is that I want to mark my new year with little, insignificant things that my heart calls upon me to do.