I've been lost at sea for a long time. At first I was in denial. I pretended that I knew where I was swimming to, that I didn't need anyone to help guide me, and so I kept staring straight ahead for so long that by the time I let go of my pride and looked back, the shore behind me had disappeared entirely.
I was embarrassed. I still am. But it's time to move on. It's time to open my eyes and realize I am not alone. There are others swimming in the same ocean. Sometimes I can see them; sometimes they are too far away or too far under the surface or the ocean is too agitated for me to make out their tiny shapes, but they are there and I can feel their presence. Sometimes just knowing they are somewhere out there is enough to keep me afloat.
I tried charting the stars and mapping the currents and listening to the tides; yet here I am, still lost at sea. I'm done trying to think my way out. I'm letting go. I'm here, I'm not going to stop swimming, but I'm not going to lose sleep over where I may or may not be going. You've got to start somewhere. One stroke at a time. May the waves take me where I need to be.