This is an essay I wrote some months back. I hope it causes other to think.
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DROWNING:
I’m at the bottom of a swimming pool and I’m drowning.
Drowning isn’t so difficult, it’s rather easy, all you have to do is relax and
give into it. The water is deep but not
so that I can’t see the sky above. There
are people around the edges. Some are pointing
and talking about me. Some seem to be
laughing at me. A few are trying to
reach down to pull me out but it’s too far.
Time seems to stretch on forever and yet seems so short as I
contemplate where I am and what I should do.
It would be all too easy to just let go, give in and drown. There really doesn’t seem to be much pain in
that course, it would be all over and I wouldn’t have to think about it
anymore, or anything else for that matter.
And yet there are those trying to reach down to pull me out. Why?
Why would anyone care if I drowned?
Does it really matter? What is it
that they are offering me there above? Out in the air? Difficulty?
Trials? Pain? Why should I even
try? I know they can’t reach me, they
can’t pull me out… unless I reach out to
them. It’s my choice.
It seems as if I’ve been down here for so long, most of my
life, forever. And yet, it’s but a short
moment. I feel like I can take forever
to make my choice, but time is running out. I will have to decide soon if I want to reach out to
those who wish to aid me. I don’t want
to reach out. The water is warm and
inviting. “Just relax and submit,” it
tells me. Why
can’t I give up that easily? I
know it’s going to be painful coming out.
I can sense the discomfort of when the air will hit me and the struggles
I’ll have to make to rise out of the pool.
It’s going to hurt; a lot. It’s my
choice.
I stretch my hand out, up and towards those who would rescue
me. It’s a long reach and the water is resisting me, calling to me to just give
in. The water’s telling me that it’s
easier to just relax and let it go. But
I can’t I have to try, and I do. I start
to kick towards the surface, it’s tiring but I must do it; or else I’ll
drown. After what seems to be an
eternity I start to get close to the surface.
I’m about to break free of the water and once again take a breath of
air.
I move with
increasing speed towards the surface as those who reached out to me appear to
be offering encouragement. I can almost
hear them cheering me on; telling me I can do it, just a little further and
I’ll be free. At the same time I see
those who were mocking me before are also increasing their efforts. I can hear their chidings in my mind, telling
me it’s not worth it, that I can’t do it, that I’m not good enough to make
it. I kick harder.
I am about to break through surface when I am suddenly
stopped. My body slams against what seems
to be a solid surface. Just when I think
I’m going to break free. Is it ice?
Glass? Or something else that keeps me trapped below to drown? The mockers above are laughing all the
harder. “I told you it’s impossible for
someone like you to get out” they are saying.
Yet the few supporters are screaming all the harder that I can make
it. Some have even jumped onto the
surface and are trying to chip away at it and help me through. I realize that it is futile for them, that
nothing they do will free me. It’s up to
me. I have to press on, to push through
and take their hands.
The water beckons to me again to relent and accept my
fate. Once again the soft lulling of the
warm water calls to me to succumb and give in.
The surface is so hard and difficult to break through. Didn’t I try after all? Wasn’t my effort good enough that I can now
relent to the waters and drown? I am
torn. It seems so hard to break through,
so easy to drown. But I can see the
clear sky above. It’s beautiful. Those above who wish to aid me are frantically trying
to help me. “You can do it, it’s only a
little more.” “It’s worth it.” It’s my choice.
Suddenly the water seems to be stifling and constricting
instead of warm and inviting. It’s
closing in around me and dragging me down.
I want out. I kick harder, I bang
on the surface trying to break free. I
want air all the more, even with its pain and suffering. I want to live. I kick and hit the surface and after a bit I
start to see a crack. The crack tries to
hide itself from me but I see it and I grasp at it. It encourages me on. I hit harder and the crack grows. Soon it starts to break up. My helpers above can now help move the pieces
of the surface out of the way as I continue to enlarge the hole I’ve made. I’m breaking free.
My head breaks through the surface and I take my first real
breath of air in what seems an eternity. It burns my lungs. The pain is strong but also the joy
overwhelming. I struggle to climb out of
my watery trap and my helpers work to pull me out. The water doesn’t give up so easily and tries
to drag me down. As I climb free the
waters reluctantly give up their hold on me and fall back.
I am free of my bondage. I can breathe air once again. I can move without resistance. The air fills my lungs, no longer burning,
but strengthening me and giving me energy.
Joy begins to fill my heart as I realize what I have achieved and what I
have gained. I am finally FREE!
I begin to relish what I now have. Those who mocked me move away. They can’t look me in the eyes. Their sideward glances are filled with
distain and condescension. Those that
aided me are congratulating me and helping me dry off. I see others who are calling below the waters
as if they were encouraging others to rise up.
Others are also mocking below. Looking
below there are many others in the waters as well. Trapped below. Some have given up and drowned. Some are struggling to break free. Some, after a struggle, have given up and
slipped once again to the depths. Still
others are banging away at the surface trying to break through as I had
done. Others are being assisted out of
the waters by helpers.
I see a few who seem to be struggling on
their own to rise to the surface and break through. No helpers appear to be near. When they break through, the mockers try to
push them back down. Most of these fight
through anyway. Once they start their climb
out helpers are quick to assist them.
I look about, my heart fills with the joy of my triumph and
the freedom I have gained. I still feel
the pain and suffering. But the joy
overwhelms it and makes it all the more bearable. I begin to desire for others what I have
gained! To share in it. I look below at
those who are trapped. I start to
call to them. To family and friends who
are struggling below. And then to those
I don’t know. Eventually as some reach the surface and
start to break through I try as I can to move away the surface pieces and help
them out. I am frustrated that I can’t
reach below the surface as I want so desperately to help everyone out of that watery
grave. I must relent to the fact that
some choose to remain there in the waters.
My heart leaps with joy at each one that reaches the surface
and breaks free. My whole being becomes
devoted to aiding those below to rise up and live.
To triumph over the waters of mediocrity and to breath the
air of freedom is something that few have ever known, and many fail to
recognize when they experience it. I
have drowned. Now, I wish to live. I am struggling to break through. I’m bursting to share it with all I can.
