The first dip of the paddle – as it reaches into the water.
The smooth, silky water.
I pull it firmly and feel the power as Sunset, my kayak, lurches forward.
A rush of air floods my lungs – the blue sky stretching its circumference around me.
I am here.
My gaze reaches to the lake’s edge – scanning for a destination. A few paddles further and I will reach another world –
far away from buzzing and alerts,
news and feeds,
the demands of a bored 7 year old girl,
needing to know… needing to do.
A quiet cove lined with immersed tree remnants and stale lily pads. Turtles sliding into the watery dark as I approach.
My cadence slows, my breath shallows.
All is still.
Even the rolling waves of inner chatter – of needing to know and needing to do – cease their incessant pounding on the shores of my mind.
A gentle breeze kisses Sunset’s hull and rocks her like a baby lulled to sleep in the safety of her mother’s embrace.
No need to control.
No need to know.
A quiet trust.