Unfurling into ocean was as close as I ever came to a natural sense of self. Out in the middle of the sea I could lose my self. That self made of my mother’s dreams - a certain kind of Excellence (everything straight, perfect diction, muted colors, grab that seat, 150% always) - would melt along with carefully tamed hair into the liquid of a thousand salty tears. A sonic ping from the DNA in my inherited cells sends ripples of residual ache, when is enough, enough.
Freedom seeps out of coiled locks while a few deep breaths leap erratically from my chest. Immediately comes a whiff of muted shock followed by a moment of waiting for the consequence of being unbound. One beat, two beats, maybe three, then a release into a void of expectation, a delicious surrender into spacious undulating waves.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Oceana’s Portal for Musings to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.