Broken Promises
and summer swims
Per summer tradition, I spent two weeks in Michigan this July. Upon arrival, I promised I’d swim in Lake Michigan each day. Instead, I hit a 50% fulfillment of this intention. I felt a bit butt hurt about this ratio until the afternoon I spent on the meadow of Ox-Bow.
Tucked under a tent on one of my favorite slices of Lake Michigan’s coast, I led a writing workshop. Directing the participants through somatic nature writing practices, I first invited them to set an intention for the afternoon. “It’s okay if you break your promise. You can always start again.” While I initially said this for my students, I almost immediately realized I was long overdue for taking my own advice. “You can always start again,” became my motto for the week.
The next morning, I started again and slipped into Lake Michigan. The warm water enticed me to stay not just for a quick dip, but a good swim. It held my body, as it always does. No matter how much weight I enter the water with, Lake Michigan always supports me with her body.
I’ve piled on plenty of pursuits this summer: starting a research project, selling textiles, picking up independent writing contracts, and teaching workshops. Despite all these ambitions, I feel light and free. And yet, even while pursuing my passions I am not immune to fatigue. This season has been a hectic juggle, and yet I’ve never felt happier, and yet I still need rest. I still need places and people to fall into. Over the past two weeks, I found myself being caught and held over and over. More than the water held me. I was buoyed by reunions with loved ones, quiet meditations, good food, and walks on the beach with my dog. In each of these spaces, I found the opportunity to unwind, to pursue something fresh… to start again.
