Deep water can be scary, the fear of drowning, sinking and what lurks beneath, but you also need a bit of depth to float freely, to swim and to dive safely. So while it’s a bit of a contradiction it’s also a mirror of life. Comfort zones and safety blankets are great and we all like to return to them, but every now and then we need to throw off the blanket and push out into the scary deep water. Sometimes this is forced on us – new job, unexpected changes in relationships, health issues, sometimes of our choosing and others forced upon us. As we strike out across the deep water sometimes we bottle it and return to the side and other times we find that actually we are quite at home out there and can touch the floor and it’s not so deep but strangely comforting.
Of course there is always the danger of coming unstuck and actually drowning so it’s always good to have a helping hand and a lifebelt nearby. Today I have been out cycling – same distance as Cycletta, but with a teacake stop at the home of the Psychic Supper, with some of the people who have been my helping hands and lifebelts as we have pushed out into the deep water. The Psychic Supper is still being advertised, I suppose the sign will self combust when all tickets have been ordered on the astral plane, All the scones were sold out, however the coffee and teacakes were excellent, as was the company and even the weather. It was really excellent today to just cycle for the fun of it chatting and catching up and not checking time and distance until we got home, pretty exhausted!
We have indeed worked our way across the deep water and it is now scary that the Cycletta distance which had seemed a major challenge at the outset was today just a pleasure ride. There are still challenges to overcome before I am totally comfortable in the deep water, hills are still there to be screamed at though less so now. My current freak out moments are the bridges on the canal , not the going over them but the narrow bumpy paths under them. there lurk any number of trolls, cobbles, the possibility of the sudden appearance of dogs, small children or even worse intransigent OAP’s or ramblers who refuse to budge from the centre of the narrow path. All of which mean that images of me thrashing in the deep dark foul water of the canal flash through my mind. This was even worse when following a slight issue loading my bike onto the car rack my bell was immobilised meaning I needed to shout as I approached these areas of doom. I now have a new bell which is reassuring, though it seems to have little effect on certain of the canal ramblers who steadfastly refuse to move an inch to allow safe passage. There is a particular type who hearing the bell, turn and look, then freeze to the spot forcing those of us on two wheels to mount the slippery grass verge, making a split second choice of veering towards a wall or the aforesaid murky waters.
However today I steadfastly rode under each bridge rather than doing my usual brake, scream shuffle and scoot through, it still felt as if I was crossing one of those Indiana Jones type rope bridges over a ravine with crumbling slats, and to some it may seem a small and rather petty element but boy to me it was deep water indeed.