in

I always get in. If there is water present, and opportunity lingers like a song bird calling to it's mate, begging the silent morning to answer… I plunge feet first, into the unknown waters. Being reborn by the cutting elixir. The rawness of that first meeting, taking the breath from my lungs, and leaving my body and my senses in a state of consciousness fulfilled only by the simple act of being… alive. This is my story-- and the performance of "getting in" has both helped and harmed through the years. There have been times when my head has begged my heart not to leap. But I have long since resigned myself to the fact that my heart muscle has been to the gym, many more times than my head. So, in the fight, there is almost always a predestined winner. It was only in my 20's that I came to the conclusion - not everyone gets in. So I hid. Like Eve making clothes from leaves of perfect trees, covering what only yesterday, was unblemished utopia. I spent years ducking into the lightless alleys of this world. A counterfeit of shame in my own skin. Until one fearless moment. One ordinary instant. I got in, again. And the husk of dishonest covering was removed from my eyes, like a veil being lifted from a bride on her wedding day. And what, for so long, had been lost - was discovered anew. Clear and unadulterated. Known and unknown. And now, now, I always get in.