At least I’d like to think I am.
For someone who grew up a mere five minutes away from the beach in a little island in an archipelago somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, I ought to be a water baby but unfortunately, aside from my great love for the water, I don’t have that many qualities that qualify me as one.
Firstly, I am perhaps what you would call a bad swimmer. Secondly, which is regrettably linked to the first one, I am no good in any water sports (and maybe any other sports for that matter unless you can call Yoga one or staying up really, really late at night).
But all these don’t stop me from yearning for water, for wanting to be in it, around it or near it – at all times if I can help it. There is something light and freeing about the water, both its stillness and natural flow transport you to space of meditation, where there is no past or future, just the present. While it’s absolutely exhilarating to break through the waves and into the horizon, while it is extremely elating to feel the power of the engine of a fast-speed jet ski, sometimes all you need is just the warmth of the sun and the smooth feel of the sand under your feet. It is then that your concept of time disappears and at the same time, your worries slowly melt away.
I love the water. Someday, I hope to be back living close to it, if not right beside it.