I paddled out to sea looking out to the horizon. Willing myself into another time, another place. Paddling away from “them”. Paddling hard, until my arms burned, my shoulders ached. Taking my flesh that had been seared from the poisonous acidic words they rained down upon me. Paddling until the “disabled houso” whispers were gone from my psyche, and the real me returned. Whole. Present. One.
My serenity from being on the water had returned. My invisible blood flowing through my magnetic veins. Blood which has the same mineral/salt composition as water, the ocean, the heart. Breathing in the air, sky, cloud, bird, fish, human here and now. Only you and the rhythm of the canoe swaying on the sea. Back and forth, back and forth go the paddles, go the rhythm, go my heartbeat, go my blood.
On I paddled and I imagined myself ancient. One lone canoe striking out and leaving this land of beasts far behind on a migration across the sea, across time, across space. Into the horizon, into the night sky, into Tangaloa’s immensity. Welling up in me like a a wave some soundwords from another time, and me wanting to the call back into the immensity.
My foot had been broken several years ago, the fall physically accompanied the fall psychologically, from society, from grace. I was cast out. Out of my former home, my former life. Falling down the hole, my perceptions of those around me changed. I was now in an altered state. Some called it highly aware while others ridiculed me for exaggerating life like a madwoman. My athletic prowess now gone, I limped about. I was weakened physically and it was taking its toll mentally. Their long term prognosis for me was disability. Disability? Bureaucratic glee at the prospect of a potential threat being disabled and pensioned off. Or put in a sheltered workshop in ten years.
They say that the pen is mightier than the sword. I know this cliché, but I learned to hone my words to a razor sharp edge. Lavalike words for pouring, shaping, moulding. Smelting, flowing liquid gold words, forged into unbreakable sentences, then dropping them in the ocean to hiss and steam and cool down. Solid words with strength worn like a suit of armour and made for shielding.. Clever words to avoid capture, make me feel alive from the struggle, the search, the quest. Then crafting words to ease the soul and honour our longing to connect as human beings.