Sea of life, body of water, traveling the currents of now

I wonder how many memories that are so vast in love and joy, that ripen to the tide, get lost out to sea. How can I not remember an afternoon of teaching my little sister tennis, her at 12, I at 21. How she can recall the afternoon bright, I not at all. She reminded me this story, as so, today. Of all the days, many years since then.
I think at 21 I was running everywhere. Running from one bar to the next, one seascape to the next, one numbness to the next. Sometimes fashioned like a toddler, always running to the next, a bottle in hand. Where was I running to, and what from since 18? Dying to live. The one shackled to the wild. Chasing drags, daring myself to handcuffed experiences.
Nothing seemed grand, looking back, quite ordinary. Nothing rich came from bleached hair jobs and bikini stares. Unstable. Reaching. Misleading myself for a time. Thinking I knew it all and now to find how little I know now. How less-assured I am of life, yet sure, somehow, in living the unknown. The only sure blessing is the uncertainty of it all. Time moves in flashed memories. Sometimes what remains is a Polaroid. Or your sister’s recollection of a tennis lesson. Sometimes it seems to slow in traumas and pains. Sometimes it’s like a dream, where memories dive beneath the surface. You’ll never know where you’re going by being sure of where you’ll end up.
I’ll keep floating along, allowing the tides to surface. Some way, somehow, it’s exactly where I’m supposed to be. I am the sea of life, a body of water, traveling in the currents of now – not what was or what will be, only now. Bubbling, swirling, drifting, and crashing. To and from, I go, exactly where I’m to be. #wordiness

stephanie birch