the dizziness of the legs when they kick against nothing,
the instinct to seek the floor,
the reassuring grit of sand beneath the heel,
the yearning to stand on something named, not something formless.
This is the tension between fluidity and structure, the dizziness of looking within and not knowing yourself.
Look down, see the gradient fade, turquoise to navy, navy to the absolute black of the unknown self.
There is no bedrock there.
No stone where the name is carved.
No foundation to hold the weight of a history.
The vertigo is the realization that the vessel has no anchor, that self does not exist.
Watch the body when it stops fighting, when you stop looking for yourself,
the moment that desire for solid earth is released, the water accepts your weight.
The lack of a floor = the gift of suspension
What cannot be stood upon can still be floated through. This is ocean and not concrete.
To be undefined is not to be lost. It is to be buoyant!