About four years ago, at the height of my middle-age, I learned to swim. It was not something I was taught as a child, and because of that, being poolside as a kid wasn't something I enjoyed. In fact, I hated it. But I was always envious of swimmers. It looked both relaxing, and powerful. A good friend of mine swims with the Senior Masters, competed at Boston College, swam across Long Island Sound, etc. and she gave me the basics. She said that half the battle was learning to float. Turns out, I was a pretty good floater. Little by little, I learned to kick, and then got my arms and head in sink. (or should I say, not to sink.) Granted, I'm not going to win any competitions, but after a summer of practice, I got good at. I found that swimming was an excellent place to meditate. The rhythm and repetition of motion were perfect for a mantra. "Thy will not mine be done." "Thy will not mine be done." or "I am at peace with all." I got to the point where I could swim for 30 to 40 minutes, and when I got tired, I would float. After a session, which I managed to do almost daily, even in the rain, I felt tired and energized. But for the past two years, I've let my swimming lapse (or not laps) - 2015 in chemo and 2016 tried but too beat.) I'm intending to pick up my practice this summer. I'll stick with the basic principles: Swim when you can, float when you need to, and of course, just keep kicking.