Last night a friend and neighbor invited me to join her in a neighborhood bunco game. I’d never played bunco before. It’s a simple game – it involves tossing three dice and counting how many of the number you are currently looking for (1s, 2s, etc), and continuing to do this rapidly. There is frequent changing of partners and moving from table to table, it’s easy and a nice way to meet people. For me, it’s a tad more challenging, (just a tad), as I have several severe learning disabilities, and I don’t always easily recognize the dice patterns. It takes a little more concentration on my part (which isn’t a bad thing – it’s probably good practice). And then there’s the bit where I’m just having trouble concentrating anyway these days. So, water, then.
I like water. I am drawn to it, and it is scary at the same time. There is great power in water. As the Doctor noted (Doctor Who: The Waters of Mars), water is patient. It wears things down. It changes the face of the earth. It gives life, and sometimes takes it.
When I was little, we used to spend our summers in Kennebunkport, ME. My absolutely favorite place was a tidal inlet that we had to climb down to – we called it “the rocks.” It was full of two of my favorite things – water and rocks. Sometimes we would stay late and watch the tide come in for a while (being careful not to get caught by it). I’ve always liked the crashing surf over the tranquil waters. I like the spray. I like the uncertainty, the randomness. To me, this has always been much more peaceful than still waters (although I prefer still waters for swimming, I suppose).
When I first heard my call to nursing it was in the swimming pool at the Yates Field House at Georgetown University. I used to swim a lot, and I have found that I have been able to clear my head often in the water. Perhaps this is why I find that I am often praying in the shower.
I do try to make time every day for prayer. Spiritual practices are important. I find more and more these days that as fogged as I am, it’s hard to concentrate and even begin. Except in the shower. Water makes things clearer, I think. So is that strange? I can pray there. I can think. I get ideas there sometimes.
Fitting, perhaps. God’s second act of creation, after separating the light from the dark, was to separate the chaos waters from the rest of the waters, and then to separate the earthly waters from dry land. There it was, waters above the vault, and waters below, and the dry land, and God saw it and pronounced it good, and there was evening and morning, the second day.
So I am still finding it difficult to concentrate. No news there. I keep getting renewed, slowly, by water. The chaos waters always threaten. Perhaps this is why I feel drawn so much to water now. I am relying heavily on God to hold back the chaos waters, because I felt their threat too closely. I’ll keep praying in the shower.