Still Here

I'm still here.

I'm just not out there. I'm very much inside here.

It's kind of nice in here, like laying under murky waters.

When I was a child I loved to lay beneath the surface of the water: at the pool, at rivers, at muddy swimming holes. I could see the lumbering legs of people around me. I could hear the screams of other children - whether in fun or murderous play. But I felt nothing but the limbic bouyancy of the water. I could concentrate on nothing but the burning urgency in my lungs.

In the midst of everything, I found my solitude. My special place was an everywhere. People talk of floating above their bodies as escape. Or of getting away from their known world as escape. But as a child I mastered the possibility of escaping into my body in the midst of everything.

Once I was buried in the sand. I was playing at the beach with my father. A wave caught me and tumbled me in the tide. It spewed me onto the shore and then covered me with sand and shells and wavely detritus. Everyone was looking out to sea, trying to trace the wave's trajectory. I lay under their feet. I remember hearing them but being unable to move, to talk, to respond in any way. The sand held me stuck fast and I needed to be found and pulled free. Not an escape, but something to escape from.

Escape is not being buried, but being unobtrusively present. The waters are clear and hold you up, they don't diminish you from sight and presence.

So I'm still here. I just need a little escape. You might not see or hear me but I can see you lumbering around out there. I can hear your comments and read your posts.

I just needed to get away for a bit. To listen to my breath and feel my heart pound in the closeted fear of what ifs.

Soon I'll have to come up for air. Sinking just isn't something I do.

This is for Josie's Writing Workshop. This week we can pick our own prompts based on single word. I picked Escape. Or it picked me. For that's what I've done these past days. Sought escape. For me, escape is a place within myself. Escape is retreat.

Where's your escape?


  1. Wow, really powerful post. I think we all need to take some time out sometimes.
    I hope you're ok and if you need a chat, or a life jacket, you know where I am, feel free to drop me an email or DM.
    *Big hugs*

  2. Sometimes escape is good, wish I could at the moment

  3. HUGS!

    Really great writing. Hope you surface soon or at least email me. :-)

  4. I escape into writing. Sometimes I'm so far escaped into my own thoughts that I lose hours - hours in which I've walked, talked and generally gone through life, all without remembering a thing. Except the important plot point I've untangled.

  5. AMAZING post. Just amazing. The whole thing was beautiful, but my favorite part was, "Escape is not being buried, but being unobtrusively present. The waters are clear and hold you up, they don't diminish you from sight and presence." I could chew on this for the next year or two.

    Meanwhile, don't feel bad about needing to escape or lay low sometimes. Life is overwhelming and taking a break can sometimes help a whole lot. I've been laying low this week too. I needed a quiet space also. Even if it was just inside my own head.

  6. How I understand the need to escape every now and then.
    I love your under water tale, I remember ding that as a kid too, come up for air soon though, I need to talk :)

  7. I'll bet everyone can relate to this post. I really loved the description of being little and washed by a wave, covered by sand and everyone looking elsewhere for you, even though you were right under their feet. I loved this writing.


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