Even when we have nowhere to go, nothing to gain, nothing to flee from, nothing to race to, we still insist on, if not swimming hard and fast in circles, then treading water, looking around, trying not to be noticed not being busy.
Just writing that was tiring. On those days, we float. And on the days we don’t have time or breath or peace of mind not to swim, well, on those days we float, too. If just for a breath. A minute. Then an hour.
Buoyancy is a life skill, a survival skill, swiftly receding from generational memory.