Whales in the Rare Air

Whales in the Rare Air

“I feel like a drenched whale.”

I heard myself say it even as my brain said “Seriously?” It was a toss-off statement, one I am certain I had made before, but never heard myself. Never heard how it had to sound to others. An inner WTF moment ensued.

What is a drenched whale? Whales are in the ocean. Wet. Drenched, so to speak. Like really down under the water line. Unless breaching. With water rolling off their flesh in waves, it’s a brief sojourn into the sea air. The sea spray announces their reentry to home. They are more comfortable below.

I live above the water. I do not swim. I would not, without much consternation and persuasion, put my face below the water. I would never “drench” myself that way. Nor would I know, therefore, what a whale, already wet, would feel like. Under water and drenched.

But if the words seem nonsensical taken individually, maybe it is the weight of those words strung together that expresses a deeper, more poignant exhaustion. A graceful animal in their environment, suddenly weighted and heavy. Heavier. Drenched in rolling water, trying to breath.

Could be me. A person neither light nor graceful. Neither deep in the sea or with face under water. But weighted in a way nonetheless.

I think of what above the water and in the light used to feel like. A little fresh. A little expansive – maybe feeling risque enough for a selfie and a walk without a coat. When I could sleep.

But the world is not a constant. Just like the ocean it moves and swirls; rises and falls – brings life and pain.

We try to navigate as best we can. Whether with bio embedded instinct, soul led faith or just an organic need to survive we keep trying to move forward, surface, breath, and move on.

But still one can feel like a drenched whale. If held too tight, held down too long, drenched too suddenly, or simply pushed beyond our natural boundaries of how we’ve managed in our world. Like the whale at sea, we press ourselves up through unnatural air, drenched, then seeking the solace of deep water. Breaching. Beauty above and below.

And myself, on dry land, seeking the solace of a better day, a lighter feeling with fewer sleepless nights. A whale with few wishes. But feeling the pressure. Seeking now an open sea. And clearer skies. Rare air. A graceful creature above the water.

As all of us wish to be.


2 Replies to “Whales in the Rare Air”

  1. Janet…..this is so good. You are so good with your words. I have read this 3 times…..I understand it well. I love you and miss you xoxo

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