“Today we celebrate sea legs…”
I don’t think I have sea legs. I wasn’t made for the sea.
In fact, I’ve never even seen the sea.
The water is rough these days, or so I imagine this is the way rough waters might feel.
Stomach rolling over itself.
Body having a hard time determining which way is up.
Eyes straining to see the horizon. Utter confusion and frustration.
I would imagine this is the way rough waters might feel.
How does one celebrate the one thing they feel they lack? How does one continue to stand on surfaces never known? How does one steady themselves when all around seems unsteady? I say one, but we all know I’m not talking in generalities here. We all know that I am talking about me. How do I celebrate sea legs when I, regardless of how hard I try, can’t seem get my feet to remain underneath weak ankles and buckling knees?
I can’t stand tonight. I can’t steady myself.
And the torrents of water rushing over the sides of this little boat threaten to drown me outright.
So. Today, I am not celebrating.
I am not toasting the sea legs I lack.
I am not raising my glass to steady legs or settled stomach.
I will not applaud hushed wind or calmed seas.
Today, we don’t celebrate sea legs.
Today, we simply wait out the night.
Today, we simply wait for morning.