Lent Day 26: Rubicon Moments

Yesterday after my previously mentioned weeding experience in the garden I took the kids to the Kearsney swimming pool for a swim. My doctor has told me that the only way to get rid of my frozen shoulder is to swim. Since he told me this at least two months ago I've been to the pool for the sum total of one session. This was to be my second.

I stripped down to my costume, popped in my ear plugs to protect my rapidly failing ears and professionally slipped my cap on. Whenever I do this I am reminded of the days when I was a lithe high school swimmer who used to swim galas in this very pool. I was long, sleek and very fit. Gray is now the swimmer in the family and he he too is long, sleek and very fit. 

Now, the Kearsney pool borders on our Sports Zone and a span of windows run the length of the pool as a result. They also double up unofficially as mirrors. I have witnessed many a school boy flex in front of these window/mirrors. Unfortunately as I strode towards the edge if the pool I caught a glimpse of myself. 

What you need to understand about the proportions of Emily is that my hair balances out a fair number of my features. I think it was God's way of softening me. When you put a swimming cap over the 'balancer' things take on a different, very troubling hue. My reflection in the harsh mid afternoon sun is not one I want to dwell on but it did kick start a minor panic attack thinking about our upcoming holiday to Mozambique with friends. Friends who are yoga instructors, marathon runners, padel pros and exercise fanatics. At the moment I'm a middle aged woman who swam once in two months. 

Shaking off my fairly intense self-loathing I jumped into the pool. I managed about two lengths before my arms started feeling like they had just had acid poured all over them. It was excruciating. I got to the side of the pool and my arms already had swollen welts all over them. I have the most sensitive skin. I can't wear jewelry or watches and as I get older it is just getting worse. Sometimes just swimming in the ocean makes me break out in hives. Looking at my swelling arms I realized that I must have wrangled one weed too many in the morning and the microscopic cuts on my arms were now reacting to the chlorine. 

I knew I needed to get out of the water quickly and the one set of stairs out the pool was all the way on the other side of the pool. Please remember that I also have a frozen shoulder and am fairly bottom heavy when you imagine me 'beached whaling' myself out of that pool, moaning in agony. 

You know those moments when all the rage about your life bottles up in a moment of sheer pain and frustration? I crossed the Rubicon yesterday. 

I am angry that my hearing is deteriorating so quickly, I am angry that not even my skin can give me a break, I am angry that I don't get time to exercise and that other people have all the time in the world to pursue the things that keep them fit and, as a result, mentally stable. I am angry that my husband still looks like he's 18. I'm angry that I feel this way about my body when I look at it because I know how hard this body works to get me through a day. I am angry that I can't lose 10 kgs based on how much I give to my students on the classroom, or that I cant run 10km based on how hard I work to make sure my children are growing up in a loving, balanced and nurturing home. 

I'm just pissed. And resentful. And probably have PMS. 

But I also know that there are other people out there who are also feeling very human today too. In my mind how I was yesterday was like how Adam and Eve probably felt leaving the garden - wobbling along semi naked, covered in a rash from the weeds, half deaf, suddenly resentful and full of rage, and sobbing uncontrollably. 

The human parts of me are certainly not top notch. But I can't let external disfunction and imperfection cloud me internally otherwise I will become an ugly person. 

And that's why Jesus came - so that God could show us how to respond to human suffering. Jesus had some serioulsy dreadful days physically. He had his Rubicon moments too. And He shows us that things will deteriorate no matter how much yoga you do, or how rad your skin is. The part of us that lives forever is the soul. And the soul doesn't need to be able to swim a kilometer, it does however need to forgive the earthly body that it lives in. This body is not eternal and it may wobble and it might battle to heave itself out of a swimming pool. But it can love, and forgive, and nurture. And in the end that's all that matters.