We are submerged. A rush of chilled liquid diamonds envelope us, caressing each curve closely. Tingling our sweaty flesh. Pulling us in, taking us deeper. Washing everything away. The soft skin we wear like coats suddenly becomes alert, conscious, aware. Our minds are illuminated by the gilded beams slicing through our liquescent sky. The icy realization surges the moment skin meets water—we are contained, we are bodies, we are trapped.

This is life.

Blinking into the blue, we learn to adapt. This is not our world. We know this, but we will soon forget. Weightlessly we explore. Hands cut through the invisible, pulling it back, pushing us forward. Always moving forward. But towards what?

Our whole lives we are taught to progress; work more, learn more, be more. We are so busy doing. Doing what? Anything. Everything. Something. Our world is spreading. Buildings get higher, towns get wider, cars go faster, and things begin to blur.

Currents can be forceful. Waves can be violent. Our bodies can be tossed and contorted and it can hurt. With every relentless crash we may lose hope, our bodies will become too exhausted. But every churning inky-black storm we endure must pass along to give way to the calm, the peaceful, and the light. Our bodies will be cradled by our salty blue world, and we will have the opportunity to just be. This moment, perhaps fleeting, is precious. We should hold it like a rare jewel. We should.

Underneath the ocean’s rippling skin, we begin as fascinated creatures. Curiosity spurs us on. We excitedly watch every flick of a fin as bright colors swim past us. Feelings are heightened—fear, awe, enchantment. But for many, these all will fade into the everlasting blue. Movement will become mundane, colors will seem less vibrant, and bodies will be lulled into a conscious coma with every ebb and flow.

Even as we grow older we like to play dress up. But the once childish play loses its pretend and its magic. As we lose this sense of wonder and ease, we pick from our old wooden dress-up box something busy to be. Coats of stress, scarves hand-painted with to-do lists, sequin fairy-wands to waste time on not really living.

This sapphire world seems eternal. As we stare around the shades of blue bleed into the next, turquoise gradually turns to indigo. At some point we can no longer see that far, it simply becomes hazy cobalt particles. But there is an end. We will not float here forever. Sometimes we blow bubbles and watch them rush towards the surface we forgot was there. Yes, there is an end. Someday we will rush towards the surface and return.

We will climb out. Some will climb through jagged rocks, black and porous, that will pierce and slice the now soft, wrinkled and fleshy souls. Some will choose to place their feet on smooth sand, gliding effortlessly from sea to shore.

Breathing hard we will let our temporary vessels fall joyously onto the sand, nestling into the baked grains, sparkling with beads we collected from our liquid journey. These fluid diamonds stick to us. We are changed.

Illuminating everything, the sun will shine through our closed eyelids, turning our whole world bright yellow and red. The sun’s warm lips will gently kiss every inch of us. A new sensation. Hot sunbeams collide with cool skin. Ironically, we will never feel so alive as in this last moment. Images of our past will flash in gold. In this moment, I hope we all smile.

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