I begin to swim upward. I let the kelp of self-denial, self-abnegation, untangle itself from my ankles as I rise toward the proverbial surface. I move through liquid, cool and tourmaline blue, bubbles sailing skyward, clouds lilting beyond the cellophane skin of this sea. I make my way upward and know finally that it is the act of swimming that must go on. Sans goal, sans direction--just the naked act of striving--propelling oneself through this vast expanse of iridescence. It is comprised of all things: human drama, hope, desire, suffering, love, fear. All of it combined at a molecular level, so much more complex than two hydrogens and an oxygen, but yielding yet the substance of our milieu. Ocean of us. If my head breaks the surface and sunlight spills over my face and hair, I know that it will be only for a moment, to take in more air: sustenance for another deep dive. So profound is the epiphany that my heart beat slows and I stop struggling against the fear of drowning. Mermaid-like I glide through the blue, soft heart, soft brow, dreaming and sleeping the peace of yes.