In 2000 or 2001, before 9/11 and before I moved well past my graduate school days, I went with my friend Iyabo to Barbados for a conference at which each of us would present. We made time for the conference (being the nerd I was I wanted to meet some of the big literary critics at this event), but definitely made time for leisure (thanks, Iyabo, for pulling me away). Top of our list was the beach, particularly one called Enterprise (Miami) beach in Oistins, where there was a food truck and men played dominoes on a card table at the edge of the sand, which itself was fine and easy on the feet. The waves rolled in shades of pale and medium bright blue, and patches of that color gave way to turquoise and lay ahead for the eyes toward the horizon. That water on my skin has become a core memory for me. I didn’t and still don’t know how to swim, but I do wade—over the years that fear has abated some. That day we alighted upon the beach I had fear and curiosity on me. Iyabo and her friends had waded out past the breaking wave line and magically floated and bobbed up and down on the ocean surface, turquoise where they were and enticing. I wanted to go past the break, but couldn’t bring myself to do it. They called their warnings—the waves will get you!—and, too late, I was picked up and tossed upside down and spat out onto that fine sand. Sputtering, my ears picked up on the girl’s laughter echoing out over the water. My ego stung more than my nose and lungs with salt water, I marched back to my towel to dry in the sun, defeated.
I think often of that day. It still hasn’t inspired me past the physical fear of water, but it always makes me think of my soul—leaning toward a break, leaning past it. The breaks in life are many and varied obstacles which keep me from the floating peace. That giving in, succumbing the what is. To the beauty of what is or is not perfect. To this being tossed, headlong, backwards. Then retreat for perspective and try again. Every soul endeavor can be this, and who knows what may come. I’ll keep reaching past that breaking point for the buoyancy of my creator, for that lift off the vast ocean floor up toward the sun.