I didn't actually expect to go swimming...

Here I was, stumbling around the long forgotten MJ ning (does anyone else wish April was a year round thing?) when I saw a blog post which lead me to a blog post which has prompted me to write a story today. The deadline is Monday, so if you two have time and want to participate, you can do that. My story:

I didn't actually expect to go swimming, which is why my swimsuit is in my underwear drawer 3359 kilometres away, and I am standing here, naked. Fortunately, I am the type of person who doesn't let a distant bathing suit keep her from living her life. No, I'm the type of person to make lemonade out of her lemons, or in this case, go naked.

Skinny dipping has always seemed like one of those priceless life experiences that everyone must submit to once. In my imagination, it seemed so freeing and incredible, but in reality it's freezing and incredibly awkward.

Here I am, standing at the side of this monstrous body of water, with my body screaming at me not to jump, and my cousin, Kaitlin, screaming at me to stop being such a wimp. I try to avoid being a wimp, if possible, and so I jumped.

The water is every bit as cold as I'd thought, and possibly colder. I was already in and there was no point ruining my life experience just because of a little jaw chattering. I swam.

There something magical about swimming in a lake at twilight, especially if you don't have clothes on. I really recommend it. After a while I stopped feeling the cold, and I know that's usually a sign to get out of the water before you unknowingly die of hypothermia, but I kept swimming.

I saw an otter floating along a little way away from me and at that moment I felt just as I'd imagined: free and part of the water. Sure, that otter could probably swim faster than me, but I was here, in the half light, in my most natural of all states, floating along with the current of the water and everything else that called this lake home. I'm not thinking about yesterday, or even tomorrow. I am alive in the present. This is life.