Living Waters

 

It was cold here again this week.  After a few days of warmth and sun, snow covered the morning ground, ice hung again from the branches.  Still, crocuses are punching up through the heavy leaf litter right through the last of the snow.  I am excited for Spring, the end of slushy snow and mud season so I can head out into the mountains again and especially so that I can go swimming in the holy lakes and rivers of New England. 

Swimming in lakes and streams has long felt like a spiritual experience to me.  The sensuality of the waters flowing over my body, the lightness in the floating, the playfulness in the tumbling and diving, takes me out of my small sense of sense into the feeling of oneness with the aliveness all around.  I can recall the first time I experienced this as a child swimming at Walden Pond. We would often go there in summer my parents and grandparents and me for a Saturday at the beach.  I loved being surrounded by the forest and swimming in those dark blue waters.  That one time in particular I delighted myself for hours swirling, tumbling, diving, and jumping into the cool waters, losing myself in the fantasy of water, light, and play.  I felt so free and happy in the waters which seemed to be playing back with me, a presence of delight.

When I got older, I swam all summer at the New Hampshire lake where my family had a cabin and nearby in the Wild Amonoosuc river under a covered bridge where the river eddied deep and wide.  The lake that I loved at summer camp with the high dive board and canoes had a family of Loons that cried out at dusk to tuck us into our sleeping bags and mark the another blessed day together.

One reason I have always loved living where I do in Western Mass, is the holy highland lake up in Goshen only a few miles from my house.  I go there most evenings all summer to cool down from the heat of the day and pray.  Swimming is my prayer. I glide through the dark heavy waters and feel the tensions and sorrows flow out of me as the presence of the beloved pours in and around me like the waters gliding over  and into my skin.  As the sun sets, the sky turns mystically blue, purple, and pink, sparrows swerve and dip, the pine trees rustle in the wind.  Last year a Bald Eagle took up residence nearby and I would see her gliding in the high winds when I did the backstroke.  In the evening, it is a place of solitude and beauty.  There are a few others who gather there as I do as an ablution, a prayer, a place of sacrament.  We are all so happy to be there.  No matter what else is happening in our lives, in the world  - and I have been swimming there for almost 40 years now! – the lake is always there to soothe, restore, and calm.

May you also find your comfort, your place of prayer, your salvation on this dear Earth.